All Chapters of When the house fell silent : Chapter 41 - Chapter 50

Chapter 34 – Chains of the Past The morning sun struggled to break through the thick curtains in their mother’s house, as though even light itself hesitated to intrude on the heaviness that lingered in every corner. The kettle whistled angrily on the stove, but no one moved to silence it. Their mother sat at the table, staring blankly into a chipped mug, her hands wrapped tightly around it even though it was empty. She had grown thinner, her shoulders rounded as if carrying invisible sacks of sorrow. The silence in the room was broken by the creak of the back door—Tshepo stumbling in, the smell of stale alcohol and cigarettes trailing him like an unwanted companion. “Morning,” he muttered, not meeting anyone’s eyes. His voice was cracked, the kind that belonged to someone who hadn’t slept properly in days. He moved straight to the cupboard, searching for bread, but his hands trembled as though the air itself weighed too much. His mother didn’t respond, didn’t even flinch. Gail

Chapter 35 – The Web Tightens Morning sunlight filtered through the curtains, but instead of warmth, it brought tension. The house felt like a web, each family member caught in their own thread, yet tangled with everyone else’s. Sandra sat at the kitchen table, staring into her cereal as though it could answer the questions hammering in her chest. Abby stood near the counter, scrolling on his phone, while Gail rushed around preparing for her nursing classes. Their mother hummed faintly to herself, though her humming broke off now and then, like a record skipping. “Did you review your notes last night?” Abby asked without looking up. Sandra’s spoon froze mid-air. “I did some.” “Some?” His eyes flicked to her, sharp. “Some isn’t good enough. You need discipline, Sandra. Medicine isn’t for the lazy.” Gail rolled her eyes. “Not everything has to be about discipline, Abby. Sometimes she just needs to breathe.” “She can breathe after she succeeds,” Abby retorted. Sandra push

Chapter 37 – Breaking Points The next morning carried with it a heaviness that clung to everyone in the house like damp clothes. The sun rose brightly outside, as if mocking the gloom inside Abby’s home. Sandra sat at the dining table, textbook open but unread, her pen tapping anxiously against the margin. Her mind wasn’t on the cardiovascular system or clinical ethics—it was on the words she wanted to say but couldn’t. Across from her, Gail yawned, scrolling absently through her notes, exhaustion etched into every movement. The kitchen smelled faintly of fried eggs, but no one had much appetite. Their mother fussed around, trying to keep herself busy, as if activity alone could hold the family from splintering. Abby finally emerged from his study, adjusting his tie, looking as crisp and collected as ever. Yet beneath that polished exterior, a storm raged. He caught sight of Sandra hunched over, her hair falling into her face, and something in his chest twisted. “Are you rea

Chapter 39 – The Collapse The morning dawned cold and gray, a mirror to the turmoil brewing inside the walls of the house. The air smelled faintly of damp earth and burning wood from the fireplace, but it could not mask the tension that had rooted itself like a stubborn weed in every corner. Mathapelo’s Crisis Mathapelo’s condition had worsened overnight. Kate’s spells had progressed, and her once-strong frame now trembled with each movement. The children hovered around her bed, afraid to breathe too loudly lest they disturb her, as if their mother’s weakening was somehow contagious. Her husband stood by helplessly, wringing his hands. “Mathapelo, try to eat something,” he urged. “I can’t…” she whispered, her voice faint, breaking into sobs. “I can’t even walk without pain. I feel trapped in my own body. Kate promised help… but this… this isn’t help!” The children cried softly, and her husband looked to the door, considering confrontation with Kate but unsure how to face h

Chapter 41 – Redemption The morning sunlight spilled through the cracked curtains, illuminating a house heavy with tension but charged with tentative hope. It was a fragile moment, where broken walls and bruised hearts might finally start to heal—or collapse entirely. Mathapelo’s Fight Mathapelo lay in bed, exhausted but resolute. The pain in her body was a constant reminder of Kate’s witchcraft, yet her spirit refused to yield. Each small movement, each breath she took unaided, was a victory. “I won’t be your puppet anymore, Kate,” she whispered to the shadows. Her friend Kate had underestimated the strength within her. Mathapelo reached for her cane, gripping it tightly, and began to practice walking short distances. At first, the steps were shaky, her knees buckling under the strain. Her children watched silently, fear and admiration mixing in their eyes. By midday, she managed to move from the bed to the living room without collapsing. “Mother!” Tshepo cried, rushing to her