Breaking the Silence by Diane Chamberlain

was balmy, the sky clear. “What do you do during the rest of the day?”
    “Sleep.” He laughed. “I’m up at four nearly every morning.”
    They’d reached the center of the field, where a huge fan blew air into the mouth of the balloon. The balloon lay on its side, and she could see the billowing of the fabric, although she could not quite make out its colors. A truck stood nearby, and two men worked near its rear bumper.
    “Hey, Alex. Brian,” Dylan said. “This is Susan.”
    The men looked up from their work. They seemed very young, at least in the dim light. One of them had long hair tied back in a ponytail. The other wore a heavy beard. Both wore gloves.
    “How’s it going, Susan?” one of them asked.
    “Okay,” she answered. “Hope you guys know what you’re doing.”
    “Me, too,” Dylan said. “Today’s their first day working for me.”
    Laura cringed.
    “Just joking,” Dylan said, touching her arm. “They’ve been working with me a couple of years.”
    “Oh. Good.”
    He was suddenly all business as he told her where she should stand in the balloon, what sort of emergencies might arise and what she should do in each case. She tried to listen carefully,nodding in the appropriate places, but she was having a great deal of trouble concentrating. At any moment, she expected him to recognize her.
    “Ready,” one of the men said.
    “Excuse me,” Dylan said, leaving her side to walk toward the balloon. He lit the burners at the top of the basket, sending a roaring blue-and-red flame into the mouth of the balloon. Slowly, the fabric of the balloon swayed and billowed, rising into the air, like a huge animal coming to life. She could see now that the balloon had a swirling striped pattern, and it was immense.
    Once the balloon had inflated above him, Dylan hoisted himself into the basket.
    Laura listened as the three men ran through a preflight checklist, then the man with the beard set a stepladder next to the basket.
    “Here you go,” he said, reaching an arm toward her. “Hop in.”
    He held her hand as she climbed the stepladder, and Dylan took her other hand from inside the basket as she stepped over the rim.
    “Step on the propane tank,” he said. “That’s it.”
    She stepped onto the tank, then onto the floor of the basket, moving to one of the corners as he’d instructed her to do. At least she remembered that much of what he’d told her.
    “All set?” Dylan asked.
    She nodded.
    “Let her go!” he called to his crew.
    The bearded member of the crew untied a line from the axle of the truck, then helped Dylan store it on the bottom of the basket. Dylan sent two short blasts of flame into the balloon, the sound nearly deafening. The man with the ponytail, who’d been holding on to the rim of the basket, let go, and the balloon began to rise.
    The ascent was slower, gentler than she had anticipated, taking her breath away in small increments. In the east, the sky was beginning to color.
    “This is beautiful,” she said, thinking that he must hear that word dozens of times in a day’s work.
    They began to drift above the treetops, but there was no sense of motion whatsoever inside the basket. And, except for the occasional roar of the flame, the world was silent.
    “Couldn’t find anyone gutsy enough to come with you for your birthday, huh?” Dylan asked.
    “Actually, I wanted to do this alone.”
    “I can appreciate that,” he said. “There’s nothing like being up here alone. I’m afraid you’re stuck with me, though. I’ll try not to intrude.”
    Tearing herself away from the sunrise, she faced him. The golden light made the blue of his eyes translucent. She’d seen the same phenomenon in her daughter’s face and remembered why she was here. She took a deep breath. “Dylan,” she said, “I’ve lied to you.”
    He raised his eyebrows. “About?”
    “My name’s not Susan…” She couldn’t even remember the last name she’d given him. “I’m Laura