Chapter 2: The Bell That Won’t Be Silenced
BAM!
I grabbed the battered mallet and brought it down hard on the old town alarm bell.
The clang shot through the empty square, loud and demanding. Everyone in Silver Hollow knew that sound—it was the call for help, for justice, for someone to finally give a damn.
"Two hundred homes in Silver Hollow burned by county deputies, three hundred people left homeless. I’m begging the officials to give us justice!"
My voice rang out, raw and ragged. The words tasted like blood in my mouth, but I forced them out—for all of us. The crowd pressed in, some weeping, others just staring at their shoes. Hope was a thin thread, but it was still there.
From the crowd, my daughter Maddie slipped her tiny hand into mine. Her voice was small, shaky:
"Daddy, I’m okay. I can hide the mark on my forehead with my bangs. Please don’t go to the police!"
Her fingers were ice-cold. I knelt, brushing her hair gently over the wound. She tried to smile, but her lips trembled. The courage in her eyes just about wrecked me.
"Mom says, we’re just broke folks—the county doesn’t care about us."
She whispered it, but it hit like a punch. I hugged her tight, silently promising I’d prove her wrong if it was the last thing I did.
The scar on her little forehead was still raw and oozing. Her eyes were puffy from crying, but she kept insisting she was fine.
I fished a clean handkerchief from my pocket, dabbing gently at the wound. She winced, but didn’t say a word. The other kids huddled behind their parents, faces pale, eyes wide. I wanted to tell them it would be okay, but the words just wouldn’t come.
Not far away, my wife Lily stood with lips gone white and fresh welts on her neck. She caught my eye, managed a shaky smile, and shook her head like she was telling me not to worry.
Lily’s strength kept us all from falling apart. Even bruised and battered, she stood straight, refusing to let anyone see her break. I caught her gaze and nodded—silent promise, just between us. She mouthed, "I’m alright," but I could see the pain in every move she made.













