Chapter 1 - Lily watched faces instead of voices
My daughter had been deaf since birth.
That meant Lily noticed things hearing people often ignored.
Eyes.
Breathing.
Hands.
Whether someone’s shoulders tightened before they lied.
Whether a person reacted to a sound they claimed not to hear.
Whether someone touched a glass that did not belong to them.
I had spent four years learning American Sign Language because I refused to make Lily enter my world entirely on my terms.
By the time she was three, she signed faster than I did.
By four, she enjoyed correcting me.
That afternoon, our ballroom was filled with nearly two hundred people.
Crystal chandeliers.
Champagne.
Velvet curtains.
Politicians.
Investors.
Executives.
Old family friends.
I was supposed to make a speech announcing a charitable program for deaf and hard-of-hearing children.
Instead, I found Lily hiding behind a curtain.
She grabbed my wrist.
Her little stuffed rabbit was crushed under one arm.
Then she signed:
You’re not deaf.
I frowned.
My hearing had been deteriorating for months.
Specialists had called it:
Fluctuating auditory dysfunction.
Possibly stress-related.
Possibly inflammatory.
Still under investigation.
Lily continued:
May you like
She put poison in your food.
Everything inside me became quiet.
