Chapter 3

The room froze.

The girl in the doorway didn't back down.

Her cheeks were red but her voice stayed level.

"I'm not guessing. ASL signs are standardized. What she signed was I didn't do it. And she hasn't spoken once since she started here. Everyone's noticed."

Ms. Hartley's skepticism cracked just slightly. "You're certain?"

"I'd stake it on it."

Silence pressed down over the office. Mom's face shifted.

Something small and reluctant moved behind her eyes. Something close to guilt.

Then Victoria straightened.

"Oh, Ella." Her sigh was heartbroken.

"Even if you don't want to admit it, you didn't have to rope someone else into covering for you. Pretending to be mute is not..."

And just like that, whatever guilt had flickered in Mom's expression vanished.

Dad pivoted to me, white-hot.

"You coached her. You planned this whole thing. You're beyond help."

I reached into my jacket pocket. Unfolded the paper I always kept there. My medical documentation. Congenital vocal cord dysplasia. Official letterhead. My name in the diagnosis field.

Dad ripped it out of my hand before I could show anyone.

He didn't read it.

Tore it in half. Then quarters. Let the pieces fall.

"Keep faking. I'll have you sent somewhere they don't reward it."

Mom's voice dropped to something uglier.

"We thought you were just damaged. Turns out you're manipulative. I'm done."

Victoria's face, half-hidden in Mom's shoulder. The corner of her mouth curved up. So small. So fast. Gone before anyone could catch it.

Ms. Hartley looked at the torn papers on the floor. She looked at me. Looked at the parents. Sighed.

She waved toward the girl in the doorway. "Go back to class. We'll handle it from here."

The girl looked at me. Eyes full of something helpless and sorry. Then she turned and walked away.

I crouched down and started picking up the pieces of my documentation.

The edges were sharp. My fingertip started bleeding.

I barely felt it.