Total pages in book: 137
Estimated words: 132791 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 664(@200wpm)___ 531(@250wpm)___ 443(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 132791 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 664(@200wpm)___ 531(@250wpm)___ 443(@300wpm)
Her offer was tempting. Almost as much as the mouthwatering sandwich she slid onto a plate and dragged in my direction. She also made me a smoothie from frozen mango, banana, strawberries, and Greek yogurt with a dash of date syrup. Maybe it was because I finally had company, or maybe it was because I hadn’t eaten properly in weeks, but I ravaged the food and smoothie in four minutes flat. She stared at me like I was a forest animal making up for lost time after months of hibernation.
I sat back on the chair at the dining table, filled with gratitude. I wished I could thank her, but I didn’t trust her enough. She sat opposite me, watching me intently. I liked her a lot, despite her affiliation with my husband. And I was horrified by what my brother was putting her through.
“Hey. Let me program my number into your phone.” She reached for the cell phone Mama gave me, which sat at the table between us. “What’s your passcode?”
Shit. Shit. Shit.
The phone was supposed to be a secret. I wasn’t supposed to know how to have one, let alone know how to operate it. I charged it in my walk-in closet, under layers of clothes, and only brought it outside because I thought Tierney was an attacker who broke inside.
There was no point denying I could operate it at this point. The lie would only be more glaring, since I obviously walked around with it. I pried it from her shiny nails, punching the four digits and handing it back to her. She frowned as she programmed in her number.
“Why are you not connected to the internet? Did Tiernan not give you the Wi-Fi?” She laughed, swinging her gaze to me.
Her smile dropped when she saw my face. The mixture of desperation and hope that shone through it. She licked her lips.
“Want me to give it to you? I steal his Wi-Fi on the daily. Eat the rich, right?”
I knew what she was doing. She was trying to lure me into showing her I understood her. I shouldn’t play along. It was dangerous. And yet…
Digging my fingernails into the skin of my palms, I nodded slowly.
She sucked in a breath and quickly clicked a few things on my phone, giving it back to me.
“Done.”
I smiled a thank-you, hoping I wasn’t going to regret putting my trust in her. I’d never had a friend before. But if I could have one…I wanted it to be her.
“I better head out.” She peered around. “I’m going to an Emilia Spencer art exhibition.”
My face lit up at the mention of the artist. I loved her work. Mama even bought me a cherry-blossom painting of hers for my seventeenth birthday. It fit my old room nicely with all the pink.
“What, you like her?” Tierney drummed her nails on the table. “She’s supposed to be good. Honestly? I know jack shit about art. But her husband’s a bigwig, and I promised Frankie I’d try to get him to endorse Wolfe for a second term.”
Frankie, as in Francesca Keaton. Wife of President Keaton. Papa always went on about how unfair it was that the Irish were good friends with the president, even though his wife was Italian American.
“Hey, you wanna come?” Tierney frowned. “I can introduce you to Emilia. Super sweet lady. Can’t say the same about her husband.”
I hesitated before shaking my head in response. If I came with her, it’d be an admission of what I was—and what I wasn’t. I wasn’t ready for that.
Tierney sighed, stood up, then leaned to squeeze my shoulder. “I’ll come again soon. Eat.”
She departed, leaving me with working internet and a lot of free time.
_______
Three hours later, I was sitting with my back pressed against the wall of my walk-in closet, my phone plugged into its charger, reeling.
I could barely breathe.
The internet was full of things. Helpful things. Terrifying things. So many inventions I didn’t know existed.
Smart gloves that help hearing-impaired people speak.
Vibration bracelets to alert you to different sounds around you.
Robotic translators.
Transcription apps for phone calls.
Even a cinema app that tells you about films playing in your area with subtitles and audio descriptions.
I was floored. The options were infinite, and all of them could help me in my journey as a hearing-impaired person. I wondered if Mama knew about all these things. If so, why didn’t she say anything?
The only constant in my life, the sole thing keeping me grounded, was the knowledge that Mama would always do the right thing for me.
Now, I wasn’t so sure anymore.
A quick search showed me so many options and shortcuts to make my life more enjoyable. And yet, I was never made aware of them. Moreover, Mama actively forbade me from using the internet. Why?
It only further fed the flame of my rising anger.