The Price of Silence
The routine had not changed. If anything, it had grown worse. Days passed inside the condo like quiet storms that never fully broke. The silence between Maya and Calvin had settled into something permanent—something that lingered in the air like dust no one bothered to wipe away. They spoke rarely now. And when they did, it was almost always because Maya tried to begin a conversation. Even then, Calvin responded with short answers. Sometimes with none at all. Sometimes he simply pretended he hadn’t heard her. At first, Maya had tried to fight the silence. She asked him about work. About church. About his day. “How was the office today?” “Did the meeting go well?” “Did you eat lunch?” But eventually she realized something painful. Calvin only spoke when he wanted to. And when
- Writer
