Chapter 3

A week later, I transferred into the family academy where Isabella studied.

The instructor put me next to her.

"Isabella, your sister just got here. She doesn't know the academy. Take care of her."

Isabella smiled and nodded. "Don't worry, Instructor. I'll take good care of her."

She did take good care of me.

When people asked why I didn't speak, she'd tear up and explain that I'd suffered a lot as a child, and she hoped no one would discriminate against me.

In less than a day, the whole class knew I was the real daughter the Moretti family had just found.

They also knew that after I came back, I used my mutism to nearly drive the adopted daughter out.

At lunch, a few girls gathered around my desk.

One named Laura signed a few movements and smiled. "I learned sign language. Can you understand me?"

What she signed was: 【How many books did you eat today?】

A meaningless sentence.

I thought she'd remembered it wrong. I patiently corrected her and told her the signs for "book" and "food" were different.

Laura stared at me for two seconds, then burst out laughing.

"Isabella, she doesn't know sign language at all."

Everyone looked over.

Isabella asked in surprise, "How could that be? Sister always uses sign language with us."

"She signs all wrong. Her hand shapes and order are incorrect."

Laura held up her phone. On the screen were a few signs she'd searched earlier. "My aunt is Deaf. I've learned sign language since I was little. Real sign language isn't like that."

I typed: "Sign language has local signs and natural sign language. What you just did was incomplete."

Laura read it and laughed. "Now that you're caught, you're making excuses?"

Whispers rose around me.

"Didn't her adoptive parents say she can speak?"

"Maybe she just wants sympathy."

"The real daughter just came back. Of course she'd find a way to drive out the fake one."

I looked at Isabella.

She immediately took my hand and shook her head at the others. "Don't talk about sister like that."

"Even if she can speak, she must have her reasons."

It looked like she was defending me. But it confirmed I was faking.

That afternoon, I went to the office to hand in materials.

When I came back, my notebook full of sign language notes had been torn to pieces and scattered in the trash.

Laura crossed her arms. "Don't look at me. I didn't do it."

I picked up every piece.

That notebook was a gift from Grandma Nora in the community when I was six.

Everyone thought I was mute. Only she, a Deaf woman, never forced me to speak.

The first sign she taught me was "I'm hungry." The second was "I'm not wrong."

Isabella crouched to help me pick them up, but tears fell first.

"Sister, I'm sorry. If it weren't for me, no one would doubt you like this."

I looked up at her.

She leaned close and whispered so only I could hear:

"Who do you think they'll believe? Someone who can't even speak, or the daughter who's been with them for eighteen years?"

Before the last class that afternoon, the instructor sent me to academic affairs to submit transfer documents.

After the classroom was empty, Isabella took my phone and sent my mother a message.

"I'm not adjusting well at the academy. There's something I want to tell you in person."

"Can you come after school?"

After school, she sent me a message.

"I found evidence of my adoptive mother admitting she abused you. She's afraid Mom and Dad will find out and wants me to delete it."

"If you want the evidence, come to the wine cellar behind the auditorium."

I stared at those words for a long time.

In the end, I went alone.