She is not allowed to complete a sentence.
There is a rude interjection before she finishes whatever she has to say, with sentences like
“Put that spoon back in the proper place.”
“You cannot do these mundane tasks properly.”
The underlying message is venomous.
“Woman, don’t forget what is your real worth. Everything else that you read, write, speak or think about is trash. Your place is in the kitchen or cleaning jobs.”
She feels a lava rising through her, but it is ineffective. It has neither consumed her fully or her opponents, or they would all have been dead. The wall flower is red with rage, but nobody feels the heat.
The household wakes up one morning to an eerie silence. They make noises with ugly expressions, but there is no response.
The wall is bare, but black, The woman has disappeared.