The Day Silence Spoke novel Chapter 97

Latisha stood frozen, not knowing what to do with her hands. She felt like a fool, a clown who had misread the entire situation.

“Just leave it there,” Clifford said dismissively.

Latisha nodded and quietly backed out of the study. As she left, she heard Yesenia’s voice from the phone. “You promised you’d come with me to the product launch tomorrow. Don’t you dare bail on me.”

“I won’t.”

“I did a livestream yesterday and made over a thousand! Am I amazing or what?”

“Amazing,” Clifford replied, his praise sounding completely hollow.

“An agency wants to sign me. Do you think I should do it? Could I make it in showbiz?”

“If you want to, go for it. I’ll back you.”

Latisha didn’t hear the rest, nor did she need to. He always granted Yesenia’s every wish. With him, Yesenia was free to do whatever she wanted—make friends, throw tantrums, pursue her dreams.

Yesenia was a whole person, so she was allowed to have a whole life.

Latisha was just a mute. A broken person, undeserving of a complete life.

She picked at her food, then went back to the bedroom and lay down. Sleep wouldn’t come; her insomnia was getting worse.

After tossing and turning for over two hours, Clifford came in. He settled into his usual spot beside her but didn't wrap his arm around her as he normally did. Instead, he turned his back to her. They lay in the same bed, facing away from each other, a stark, empty space between them that felt as vast as an ocean.

Latisha clutched the edge of her pillow and closed her eyes, trying to ignore the void beside her. The light from overhead was still bright, even through her eyelids.

Unable to sleep, she eventually got up, went to the bathroom, and then padded out to the living room sofa. She curled into a ball, burying her face in her arms to block out all the light.

*I want to sing.*

“You want to sing?” Clifford laughed, but it was a cold, humorless sound. “Are you trying to be defiant now?”

She wasn't being defiant. She truly did want to sing. It was her deepest dream—no, her most impossible wish. Just like divorcing him. They were both hopeless fantasies.

His smile vanished. “I’ll give you one last chance. What do you want to do?”

*I don’t know.*

Clifford’s patience had run out. “How could you not know?” he said, his voice dripping with ice. “You like washing dishes, don't you? Fine. Go wash dishes.”

Latisha’s lips parted slightly. She stared at him, searching his face for any sign that he was joking. There was none. The man held a grudge. She had disappeared for half a month and ended up washing dishes at that diner, and while he’d ignored her then, he was now using it as a weapon against her.