Chapter 2 - The Silent WallsThe silence that followed Daniel’s command was absolute. Anna stood up, her face a mask of practiced submission, but her eyes—dark and intelligent—held a flicker of something Daniel hadn't expected: defiance.
“I’m sorry, sir,” she said, her voice steady. “I didn’t mean to create a mess. I just thought...”
“You thought what?” Daniel interrupted, stepping into the light of the kitchen. “That my son is a toy? That my kitchen is a playground for your amusement?”
Leo, sensing the shift in his father’s energy, began to whimper, his small hands clutching the edge of his wheelchair, which Anna had pulled close to the pots.
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“Leo isn't a toy, Mr. Carter,” Anna replied, her voice sharpening. “He’s a child who hasn't heard his own voice in months. I didn't think laughter was a mess.”
Daniel looked at his son—the terrified look in his eyes mirrored the one Daniel felt every night he stared at his wife’s empty side of the bed. He felt a surge of rage, not at Anna, but at the fact that she had succeeded where he had failed. He turned on his heel and walked out, leaving the pots clattering on the floor.
