Chapter 80

The room was wrapped in an almost suffocating silence. The only sound that broke through was the faint, rhythmic scratching of Clyde’s pen against paper. The quiet was so thick that it felt like it had a weight of its own, pressing down on me, making every breath seem louder than it was. I could feel the seconds ticking by, the tension growing as I struggled to find the right words.

Clyde didn’t seem in any rush. His eyes remained focused on the documents in front of him, his hand moving smoothly as he wrote. I wondered if he was deliberately dragging it out, waiting for me to crack under the pressure of the silence. He had a way of doing that—forcing others to speak first, making them reveal their cards while he kept his own hidden.

When he finally noticed that I wasn’t saying anything, he paused and slowly turned his head toward me. His gaze was sharp, a little impatient, but still cool and composed. “Weren’t you supposed to tell me something?” he asked, his tone flat but with an e