"GrandfatherI'sorryIcanexplainyouseeIwas..."

"Hmph."

Kelty snapped her mouth closed like a trap and nearly caught her tongue.

"Not another word," he rumbled. "Not a sound."

The air thickened, the walls took a step closer, and Kelty began to feel entombed by an oppressive lack of noise. Her grandfather sucked on his pipe, causing the tobacco to crackle and hiss like a snake in autumn grass.

He set the pipe aside and reached for the paddle.

Not a paddle.

The Paddle.

Kelty's breathe hitched and struggled in her throat. She shook her head gently as tears formed, fell, rained down her cheeks.

"Come here. Now."