The Day Silence Spoke novel Chapter 165

Latisha watched Clifford enter, looking travel-worn, and her heart clenched. The face she once longed for now made it hard to breathe.

“Not living long sounds good,” she thought. “Then I wouldn’t have to suffer every day.”

The doctor felt a pang of guilt, unsure if Clifford had overheard him. He stood up awkwardly. “Mr. Lambert.”

Clifford strode over, a chill seeming to radiate from him, and sat beside Latisha. “How is she?”

“The fever’s broken,” the doctor reported. “If it doesn’t return tonight, she should be fine.”

Clifford nodded. “You can go.”

The doctor breathed a sigh of relief and quickly made his exit.

The bedroom fell silent. Latisha stared at Clifford’s face, a heavy weight pressing on her chest, a stone of unspoken emotions lodged in her heart.

He looked down at her and reached out to touch her forehead, but she turned her head away.

Clifford’s expression darkened, but he placed his hand on her forehead anyway. His skin was cool, not icy, but like smooth jade.

“Latisha,” he said softly.

She stiffened but kept her gaze averted, her lips pressed tightly together.

He cupped her face, gently turning it back toward him. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have treated you like that last night. Please, don’t be angry anymore.”

Latisha bit her lip and slowly raised her eyes to meet his. For a rare moment, his features were softened with a tenderness that reminded her of the past.

But it was all an illusion. Soon enough, he would become cold again, cruel again. He was just coaxing a pet that had nearly slipped its leash.

Slowly, she let her hands fall, disappointment clouding her eyes. The stone in her heart plunged, dragging her down into the abyss.

But then he caught her hand again, sighing softly. “I’m sorry.”

How ironic. As if those words could make everything vanish. As if, after hearing them, her continued pain was just a sign of being petty and small-minded.

Latisha pulled her hand away and signed: *I’m tired.*

Her gesture silenced him. He looked at her with a complicated expression, then finally said, “Eat something before you sleep.”

She shook her head and pulled the blanket over her head, shutting him out.

But Clifford wasn’t asking. He stood up and left the bedroom, returning less than twenty minutes later with a bowl of soup.