The Day Silence Spoke novel Chapter 39

Latisha beat on the door until her arms gave out. She slid to the floor, defeated. The storage closet was small, cramped, and pitch black. The silence was so profound it felt like the air itself was holding its breath.

The suffocating darkness pressed in on her, wrapping around her like a thousand threads, squeezing the air from her lungs. She curled into a ball on the cold floor, hugging her knees to her chest. The only sounds were her own ragged breathing and the frantic drumming of her heart.

Clifford had told her to reflect, but she didn't know what she was supposed to be reflecting on. Was it her fault for waiting five hours alone at the restaurant? Or for taking Mrs. Dashiell home? She didn't know what she had done wrong.

She felt for her phone in her pocket, but the battery was dead.

She huddled by the door, closing her eyes and covering her ears, trying to pretend she was just in her bedroom after nightfall.

Years ago, Renata had locked her in a closet just like this for a day and a night. Rats and insects had crawled over her in the dark. For a six-year-old child, it was the ultimate terror. And the worst part was, she couldn't even scream. All she could do was scratch and pound on the door until her fingers bled, but no one had come.

Finally, it was Clifford who had opened that door and carried her out. It was the first time he had ever held her. She could still remember the warmth of that embrace, the faint scent of sunshine and mint that clung to the young boy.

Now, he was the one who had thrown her back into the abyss, back to where it all began. The image of the boy who had saved her cracked in her mind.

Memories of the past flooded her, and her heart felt like it was being squeezed by an invisible hand. The phantom insects from her memory crawled into her soul, gnawing away at her, and she couldn't breathe. Her chest tightened, her heart hammered against her ribs, and her breaths came in short, shallow gasps.

She fell to her knees, using the last of her strength to pound on the door, her movements growing slower and weaker until they stopped altogether.

Clifford was long gone. He had driven to his office, completely deaf to her desperate pleas for help.

"Then call him and tell him to get his ass back here, or I swear I'm jumping out of this third-story window!" Nikita shrieked.

Barry paled. Knowing his young miss, it wasn't an empty threat. He quickly tried to placate her while rushing off to call Killian.

Killian was in the middle of a meeting with a client. He saw Barry's call and pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. He stepped out of the conference room and called Nikita back.

"Nikita, can't you just behave for a few days? Dad was the one who ordered you to be confined to your room. There's nothing I can do."

"It's not about that," she said urgently. "Bro, I can't get ahold of Latisha. She's not answering her phone or my texts. Can you please call Clifford and see if she's okay? I have a bad feeling about this."