The Day Silence Spoke novel Chapter 126

Clifford’s eyes remained fixed on the television.

“Where have you been?” he asked without looking at her.

Latisha kept her head down. He wasn’t looking at her, so she couldn’t explain, and it was clear he didn’t want an explanation anyway.

She sat on the opposite sofa and signed, *Have you eaten?*

Clifford finally turned to look at her, his eyes filled with a barely concealed mix of mockery and coldness. “Why the pretense?”

Latisha froze. His icy tone sent a wave of suffocation through her.

“You’re so desperate to divorce me, yet here you are, putting on this act,” Clifford said. “Latisha, I never realized what a good actress you are.”

Her hands clenched, and she looked at him, utterly lost.

He wasn’t wrong. The thought of divorce often crossed her mind—when she was alone, when she saw his favoritism toward Yesenia, and especially at night. Her thoughts were more extreme then, like decisions made just before sleep, always tinged with regret the next day. She had even considered asking Zadok about divorce before deciding to focus only on Mrs. Dashiell’s case.

How could she possibly explain the complex, contradictory storm of emotions inside her? She couldn’t.

In a way, Clifford was right.

His eyes locked onto hers. “Nothing to say?”

Latisha clutched the hem of her shirt and chose silence.

He stared at her for a long moment before leaning back, his expression returning to a calm mask. “Latisha, I’ll say it again: it doesn’t matter who you find. Don’t be so naive.”

She looked at him in shock, more confused than ever. Why, if he loved Yesenia so much, would he deny her a home with him? And if he disliked Latisha so intensely, finding her a disgrace he couldn’t stand to be seen with, why wouldn’t he let her go?

His grip was crushing. Pain shot up her arm, and her eyes welled with tears. She struggled against him, but he held her tight.

“Why aren’t you saying anything? Why won’t you speak?”

The calm composure he had worn just moments ago shattered, replaced by a twisted, almost ferocious look.

She was terrified of him like this. He was like a different person, a madman. She fought harder, desperate to escape. He yanked her back by the wrist and threw her onto the sofa.

Her head spun, the familiar wave of dizziness washing over her. She squeezed her eyes shut as the world tilted and spun around her.

Clifford seized her chin, his voice a low growl. “Look at me.”

She forced her eyes open, her vision blurred with tears as she looked up at him. He stared into her eyes, taking a deep, calming breath before speaking again, his voice now dangerously quiet. “Don’t force me to do something I don’t want to do. Do you understand?”