The silence was worse than shouting.
Daniel’s silence always meant danger.
He had seen me whispering, I was sure of it. He had locked the study door, but not said a word. And that was what terrified me—because Daniel’s punishments never came when expected. They came later, sharper, when I had almost convinced myself I was safe.
The Disappearing Walls
The next morning, the walls themselves were different.
The study furniture had been moved, the heavy oak desk shoved against the wall where Adrian’s taps had always come.
I pressed my ear to the wood when Daniel was gone. Nothing. No rhythm. No knocks. Only silence.
Panic swelled in my chest.
“Adrian,” I whispered, desperate. “Please—”
Nothing.
The wall that had once been my lifeline was now a grave of silence.
Daniel had cut us off
