Chapter 29

A tall, lean figure stood silhouetted against the light, his face obscured.

Latisha's hand tightened on the plate she was holding. She had no idea why he was here. Shouldn't he be enjoying his time with Yesenia?

"Have you had enough fun?" he asked, his voice deceptively calm.

She had been gone for over two weeks, and in his eyes, she was just playing a game.

The owner's wife glanced between the two of them. "Who are you to Latisha?" she asked.

"I'm her husband."

The woman gasped, completely taken aback. This was not the man she had imagined. She'd pictured a lazy, good-for-nothing bum, or perhaps an arrogant, pot- bellied man who ordered Latisha around. She had never expected someone so young, handsome, and powerful.

"Latisha said you didn't want her anymore. Why are you here?"

Clifford turned his head slightly to look at the woman. "Is that what she told you?"

The woman faltered, realizing things might not be as she'd thought. "Well..."

A faint, disarming smile touched Clifford's lips. "She was angry with me and ran away from home. I apologize for any trouble she's caused you."

"Oh, is that so?" The woman chuckled, relieved. "That's good, then. I was so worried she was going to have the ba..."

Before she could finish, there was a loud crash. The plate slipped from Latisha's hands and shattered on the floor.

Latisha rushed to the woman's side and signed frantically: *I'm sorry, I didn't mean to.*

She had done it on purpose. If she hadn't, the woman would have revealed her pregnancy.

The owner's wife didn't understand her gestures but smiled reassuringly. "It's alright, don't worry about it. I'll clean it up. Now that your husband is here, you should go home."

Latisha looked up at Clifford. He took her hand and led her out of the diner.

They were silent the entire drive

back to the villa. The joy she had felt was gone, replaced by the cold,

lonely atmosphere of the massivE,

empty house it was the complete opposite of the small, warm diner.

As soon as they were inside, Clifford's demeanor shifted. He grabbed her jaw, his

grip like steel, a terrifying chill emanating from him.

"Latisha, you've grown bold. Running away from home, are we?"

His grip was so tight she felt like her jaw would break. She looked up at him, seeing a storm brewing in his eyes.

She wrung her hands, about to sign something, but he shoved her onto the sofa.

The world spun, and for a moment, her vision went black.

He loomed over her, pinning her hands down. "Who taught you to do this?"

Latisha met his gaze, a bitter smile on her lips as tears welled in her eyes. She struggled, pulling her hands free to sign: *No one taught me You don't care where I go so why can't I leave?*

Though she was silent, her expression and the frantic movements of her hands conveyed all her anger and hurt.

Clifford stared at her, saying nothing.

*You love Yesenia so much,* she signed. *Isn't it better that I'm out of your way? Why did you bring me back?*

She rarely talked back to him. She had always been like an obedient kitten, accepting whatever he said, never demanding anything. A simple pat on the head was enough to make her happy.

He was seeing for the first time that she, too, could get angry.

He seemed to process this for a moment before speaking. "Are you throwing a tantrum?"

Latisha froze, her hands hovering in

the air. She didn't know how to

answer. She wasn't sure if it was a answer Show. All

tantrum or not. All she knew was

that the thought of his indifference, of how he would never love her baby, made her want to flee this suffocating place.