The Day Silence Spoke novel Chapter 128

It was all meaningless now. Her hand froze in mid-air, her gaze shattering as she looked at him.

Clifford’s eyes lowered to her suspended hand before returning to her face. He raised his own long fingers to her cheek, his touch cool against her skin.

“Do you want a boy or a girl?” he asked, as if to himself.

Hearing his question, she suddenly laughed. Tears streamed from her eyes, making it impossible to tell if she was laughing or crying.

Clifford watched her, his gaze intense, stubbornly waiting for an answer.

Latisha pulled the corners of her mouth into a wider smile and raised her hand, slowly signing the words: *I like girls.*

He caressed her cheek, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “Girls are good,” he murmured. “Girls are obedient. We’ll have a girl.”

The tears fell like broken pearls.

If only he had said this a month ago. Then, she could have proudly told the world she was having a baby. She wouldn’t have had to hide it like a thief. She could have shopped for tiny, beautiful clothes and, like any other mother, eagerly awaited her child’s arrival.

And none of what followed would have happened. Latisha nodded, her smile as desolate as her eyes. It was so fake.

Clifford couldn’t wipe her tears away fast enough. “Don’t smile like that,” he said, his voice hoarse.

She slowly let the smile fall from her face, revealing her true expression—one of raw, empty grief that was even more unsettling than her forced laughter.

Clifford sighed, a flicker of impatience crossing his face. He abruptly stood up and, without another word, went upstairs.

Latisha remained on the cold floor, her eyes closed. It took all her strength to push the recent events from her mind.

She opened her eyes, pulled open a drawer, and took out her medication before heading to the kitchen.

She filled a glass with water and stared at the pills in her hand. Clifford’s words echoed in her mind, and she drifted again. For a fleeting moment, she felt that life was utterly meaningless.

Latisha raised her hand and signed, *I’d like some soup.*

“I’ll have some sent over,” Clifford said. His gaze flickered to the glass of water on the counter beside her. It was just a glance before he turned and left the kitchen.

Latisha let out a shaky breath and looked back at the knife. She grabbed the glass, tossed the pills into her mouth, and swallowed them down.

Soon, the meal Clifford ordered arrived, delivered by Ziven.

As Ziven set the dishes on the table, he sensed the oppressive, strange atmosphere between Clifford and Latisha. He didn’t dare linger, leaving as soon as the food was arranged.

Latisha stood up out of habit to serve him soup.

Suddenly, Clifford spoke. “At the office, you don’t have to listen to anyone but me and Ziven.”