Novel & Cerita The Silent Patient Audiobook

Damian – First Person POV The house was quiet. Too quiet. The kind of silence that presses on your chest and wraps itself around your bones, forcing every thought to crawl to the surface like a tide that never ends. It wasn’t the peaceful silence you hoped for after a long day; it was the kind that made you think too much. The kind that made your heart beat loud in your ears — betraying the stillness around you.

If he could talk, he would have been in heaven, screaming at me, not standing next door playing ghost. I grabbed my phone. My fingers trembled as I tapped the screen. It was the audio file I had secretly recorded earlier. Perhaps it was just my mind playing tricks on me, or just some hallucination brought on by painkillers. I pressed play. The progress bar moved. Only a harsh, static buzz came through. It sounded like a bad connection or some kind of interference. There was nothing else. There was no man’s roar, no woman’s moan, not even that chilling curse—“Lindy, you’ll die for this.”

Only the calm of a storm that knows its strength. Then, softer, but no less deadly: “Whisper again, and I’ll turn your murmurs into your graves.” The silence that followed wasn’t brittle anymore. It was bent, forced under her weight. Even Silas didn’t speak. The chamber did not snap back to quiet so much as it folded — like a giant leaf closing on itself, the sound of wings and breath muted under the weight of something enormous and final. At first came the smallest noises: a throat cleared, a chair scraping as someone adjusted position to listen harder. Then, like a tide catching on a cliff, reactions spilled out.

With that, he hit play. There was a bit of static from the speakers, probably from the phone’s time submerged in water. The audio clip was not very clear, and Cynthia’s weak voice was accompanied by the sound of heavy breathing. She spoke intermittently and with the heaviness and complicated feelings of someone who knew she was near death.

Julian slammed his hand onto the console. The world went Black. But in the darkness, a single, analog sound began to play. Hiss. Click. Whir. It was the 1977 Cassette Tape. And then, a new voice spoke—a voice that was deep, ancient, and sounded like it was coming from Inside your own head. "Chapter 146: The Reader’s Audit. Warning: By continuing to read, you are consenting to a Physical Transfer of Assets. Please check your pulse. Does it feel... Digital?"

They were covering their ears. "Stop it," Silas wheezed. "Stop." Richard pulled back. The pressure in the room snapped like a rubber band. I stood there, breathing hard. My shirt was soaked with sweat. My heart was thudding so hard I thought it would burst. Richard didn't move. He kept his hand on my shoulder. "The Audit is over," Richard said. Silas looked up. He looked at me. Not as a mate. Not as a doctor. He looked at me like I was a ticking bomb.

Bright The silence in the waiting room was deafening. Only the tick-tock of a clock on the wall seemed to move at its own rhythm, and every passing second hammered against my chest, reminding me just how fragile Sophia's life was at that moment. I had sat down next to Dante, rigid, fists clenched on my legs, unable to muster even a thread of calm. I couldn’t even look at Dante; his presence made me uneasy, but more than that, it kept me alert, because I knew his judgment, his gaze, was always loaded with intent.

Ethan had given me medicine not to heal me, but to suppress me, to keep whatever was inside me hidden. The air in the room grew heavier as I turned the next page, desperate for more, but before I could read further, the lights above flickered. Once, twice, then dimmed until the room was drenched in shadows, the fire sputtered low, the air growing cold enough to sting my skin. My breath hitched. The silence fractured. And then I heard it. A voice, closer than ever before, hissing against my ear as if the speaker stood right behind me.

Clifford’s POV The room was dark, the silence deafening—but not as deafening as the woman’s wails echoing inside the video playing on my phone. She was on her knees, palms pressed together like she was praying, begging not to be killed. How could I hear her screams when the volume was muted? Simple. I could read the words from her lips. I couldn’t risk turning the sound on; Millicent was sleeping soundly beside me, turned away, her breathing even and deep.

"If I were her, I'd probably pretend to be mute and stay silent for years too. That voice is enough to make anyone want to gouge their own ears out!" My desk was kicked over, sending all the books scattering across the floor. Alice yanked my hair hard, then she raised her hand and slapped me across the face. "I'm talking to you, Summer! Your mute act is over, and now you're deaf? Can't hear anyone, right?" I shoved her with all my strength. "Let go of me!"