The Day Silence Spoke novel Chapter 164

“Oh, right. Your phone was buzzing all night. It looks like someone was messaging you. Do you want to see it?”

He handed the phone to Latisha. She took it and, as expected, found a stream of messages from Nikita. They were a frantic progression of questions:

[How much longer until you get to Hanse City?]

[Where are you?]

[Why aren't you answering? Did something happen?]

Latisha read through them, her lips pressed into a thin line. Then, she typed her reply.

[I’m sorry, Nikita. I’ve gone home. I can’t come to Hanse City.]

Nikita was at a rest stop when the message came through. She stared at it, a slow burn of anger rising in her chest.

Nikita: [What do you mean?]

Latisha could feel the fury radiating from those three words. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and typed a lie that felt like swallowing glass.

Latisha: [I discovered I can’t leave him after all.]

Latisha: [I’m so sorry, Nikita.]

Latisha: [Take care of yourself out there. If we ever get the chance to meet again, I’ll apologize to you in person.]

Her hand fell away from the phone, limp. A film of tears blurred her vision. She wanted to leave Etherea City. She wanted to see the world with Nikita, to be a nomad, a world traveler—anything was better than spending her entire life trapped in Clifford’s orbit. For twenty years, her every joy and sorrow, her entire existence, had been consumed by him. He was everywhere, in everything.

Reading the message, Latisha felt a sting in her nose, and the tears she’d been holding back finally fell. She didn’t know if she had saved Nikita, or if Clifford had deliberately driven Nikita away. Otherwise, why would he have waited three whole days—only appearing after Nikita had left?

She didn’t want to think about it. She couldn’t. She knew that no matter what she did, she could never outmaneuver Clifford. She couldn't even win against Santino; what hope did she have against Clifford?

The doctor watched her, sighing again. Though he didn’t know why she was crying with such despair, he offered what comfort he could. “Mrs. Lambert, please don’t cry. It’s not good for your health. You need to try and lift your spirits. It will help your body recover faster. Otherwise, you’ll only get weaker.”

Latisha turned her head, tears tracing paths from the corners of her eyes into her pillow. The doctor looked at her desolate expression, and a knot formed in his chest. How could a person become so broken?

He couldn’t help but say, “If you go on like this… you won’t live very long.”

The words had barely left his lips when the door swung open, and Clifford walked in.