... he’s taken her into an entirely different world, pulled her into a secret circle, a white-roofed dome that belongs to nobody but them. It’s about twenty feet across. In the center is the trunk of the willow. The grass growing out from it is still the perfect green of summer.
“Oh, Scott,” she says, and no vapor comes out of her mouth. It’s warm in here, she realizes. The snow caught on the drooping branches has insulated the space beneath. She unzips her jacket.
“Neat, isn’t it? Now listen to the quiet.”
He falls silent. So does she. At first she thinks there’s no sound at all, but that’s not quite right. There’s one. She can hear a slow drum muffled in velvet. It’s her heart. He reaches out, strips off her gloves, takes her hands. He kisses each palm, deep in the center of the cup. For a moment neither of them says anything. <...>
“I love you, little Lisey.”
“I love you, too.” And at that moment, hidden away from the world in this green and secret circle of silence, she has never loved him more. © Lisey's Story