บททั้งหมดของ SILENT BETWEEN TWO HEARTS: บทที่ 61 - บทที่ 70

Elena accepted the offer outside the city, and though she didn’t say it aloud, part of her needed the distance. Everything at La Rivera had become tangled: Helen’s sudden rise, the staff’s shifting loyalty, Maria’s unexpected return, and Harry’s mixed reactions. Leaving gave her room to breathe. Room to think. And room to act without drawing attention.Harry, however, didn’t take it lightly. He didn’t try to stop her; he knew Elena well enough to understand that pushing would only make her more determined, but he couldn’t hide how unsettled he was. For the first time, he felt genuinely powerless. He watched her pack up her workspace, hand over the pending tasks, and walk away from the project that once defined her. Each step she took felt like she was drifting further beyond his reach. He wasn’t sure if it was fear or guilt that tightened his chest, but he knew one thing: the uncertainty of their situation was becoming unbearable. Especially now that “Maria” was back, bringing more qu

Meanwhile, the envelope Harry had returned so casually, almost absentmindedly, was anything but ordinary.It was the very piece Elena had been searching for.The missing link.The proof.The truth Helen had guarded too fiercely to destroy, yet too carelessly to protect.Helen did not know it yet, but she had come dangerously close to losing everything in that single moment.As Harry stepped out of Dr. Hollister’s office and turned toward the parking lot, Helen followed a few steps behind him, her mind spiraling in quiet chaos. Her fingers tightened around the envelope, feeling its thin weight burn against her palm. She replayed the scene over and over: the knock at the door, Harry’s surprised expression, the way his eyes lingered just a second too long on Dr. Hollister.Had he opened it?Had curiosity gotten the better of him?She studied the back of his shoulders as he walked ahead, searching for signs of tension, hesitation, or guilt. But Harry moved the same way he always did, stea

Elena returned without announcement.No dramatic arrival.No explanations.No attempt to reclaim the space that had been taken from her in her absence.She slipped back into the city the same way she had left it quietly, deliberately, with intention.From the outside, nothing about her suggested resistance or urgency. To anyone watching, she appeared calm, composed, even detached. But inside, Elena was alert in a way she had never been before. Every sound, every interaction, every pause mattered now.She was no longer reacting.She was observing.The house felt different the moment she stepped in, not unfamiliar, but altered. As though the walls themselves had adjusted to a new rhythm. Helen’s presence lingered everywhere. In the arrangement of flowers on the table. In the faint scent of perfume that wasn’t Maria’s but tried to be. In the way the staff spoke, careful, reverent, almost protective.Elena noticed everything.And she said nothing.She watched Harry first.He looked the sa

Nothing broke.That was the most unsettling part.The tension did not explode into confrontation, nor did it dissolve into reassurance. It simply stretched thin, invisible, and taut, wrapping itself around every conversation, every shared space, every quiet glance exchanged when words felt too risky.Life continued.And that, Elena realized, was how deception survived the longestHelen woke early the next morning, moving through the house with deliberate softness. She made breakfast with care, humming lightly, setting plates just as Maria once had. Every movement was intentional, curated to reinforce familiarity.She was no longer just performing.She was reinforcing.Harry noticed.He noticed how she placed his mug slightly to the right, the way Maria used to, except Maria had done it without thinking. Helen paused first, as though recalling instructions from memory rather than instinct.A small thing.But Harry’s mind had learned to linger on small things.Naomi rushed in, cheerful

No one spoke.That was what Elena remembered most about the moment after the screen went dark, not outrage, not gasps, not chaos. Just silence. Thick, heavy, collective silence that pressed down on the room like a held breath.The kind of silence that meant people were thinking.The kind Helen had never prepared for.The lights slowly brightened, restoring La Rivera to its polished elegance, but something essential had shifted. The room no longer felt celebratory. Conversations didn’t resume. Applause never came. Guests sat frozen in their seats, eyes darting from the blank screen to Helen, then to Harry, then back again—as though hoping someone else would explain what they had just witnessed.Helen stood perfectly still.If panic existed inside her, she did not show it. Years of discipline held her posture upright, her expression composed. She did not gasp. Did not protest. Did not reach for the microphone or attempt to justify what had just been revealed.She smiled.It was small. C