Chapter 5 #2
After a while, Ashby started lining the figures back up on the desk again, humming softly to himself. That was when I heard loud footsteps in the hallway. I turned my head, thinking it was Wesley coming to play with us, but it wasn’t.
A boy I had never seen before stopped in the doorway. He was breathing hard from running up the stairs. His hair was black and stuck to his forehead, and his eyes were blue and confused as they met mine. He just stared, and I stared back.
What was this strange boy doing in our house?
His face twisted, like he’d smelled something bad. “Uh, Ashby?” he said, his voice full of disbelief. “Why is there a girl in your room?”
I frowned. I wanted to let him know that Ashby asked me to be here.
That I was allowed to be here, and I wasn’t doing anything wrong.
But I already knew he wouldn’t understand me.
Boys like him didn’t know my secret language, and they never cared to learn it.
So I tucked my hands behind my back and pressed my lips together, staying very still.
Ashby looked up at him, completely unfazed. He smiled brightly. “Stan,” he said happily. “Come play. You can be Iron Man.” He held the figure out toward him.
Stan didn’t take it. He didn’t even look at it. His eyes stayed on me, narrow and suspicious.
“Ashby,” he said again, slower this time, “I’m serious. There’s a girl in your room.”
Ashby raised a brow and glanced at me as if he was double-checking. Then he looked back at Stan and nodded. “Yeah. I know.”
He pointed at me with a proud smile. “That’s Milow. She lives here.”
Stan blinked, still not moving.
“She… lives here?” he repeated.
Ashby nodded again. “Yeah. Mom and Dad adopted her.”
Adopted. Was that the word for becoming part of a new family and staying forever?
Stan’s gaze moved over me again. He was still unconvinced whether I should be there.
I stayed very still as he eyed me. Maybe if I didn’t move, he wouldn’t find anything wrong with me.
The look on his face changed. The sharp disgust faded, turning into confusion, then curiosity. I didn’t know which one was worse.
“Milow,” Ashby said proudly, pointing at me, “this is my best friend in the whole wide world. Stan. We go to school together.”
I looked from Ashby to Stan, then back to Ashby. I didn’t know what to do. Waving felt too exposing, and talking wasn’t an option. Stan kept watching me as he stepped closer. He stopped right in front of me and tilted his head. “Hello.”
My throat tightened the way it always did when people waited for my voice, but I knew nothing would come out, and my silence could spark any reaction. Especially from this boy, I had a feeling his reaction would be bigger than most.
And I was right.
Stan frowned. “Is she broken?”
“She’s not broken,” Ashby said immediately, his frown deep as he stepped closer. He stood in front of me protectively, as if his body could block the boy’s hurtful words. “She’s super cool and really smart. And she speaks a secret language.”
“No way,” Stan said, shaking his head. “I don’t believe you.”
“But she does!” Ashby insisted, turning to me with a hopeful smile. “Show him, Milow.”
My hands felt heavy. I didn’t want to. I didn’t want to prove myself to someone who already looked at me like I was strange and wrong. But Ashby was smiling so brightly at me, and I didn’t want to disappoint him. I’d do this for him, not for the mean boy. Slowly, I lifted one hand.
[Hello.]
Stan squinted, and his nose scrunched up. “That’s not a secret language. She just waved.” He scoffed. “She’s weird.”
The same pain I had so often felt back at the children’s home settled inside my chest. I didn’t like this one bit. I moved my gaze to Ashby. [I don’t like him.]
Ashby’s eyes widened. For a second, I thought I had done something bad. Then his face changed, and he looked angry. But he wasn’t angry at me.
“She’s not weird, Stan!” he snapped. “You can’t say mean things like that.”
“But she is weird!” Stan shot back. “She’s just staring at me like a creepy doll.”
Ashby’s mouth tightened. He looked really upset now. “Stop it, Stanley. That’s not nice!”
Before Stan could answer, a deep voice filled the room.
“Boys, what’s going on?”
Gus stood in the doorway. Relief rushed through me so fast it made my eyes sting. I jumped up and ran to him without thinking. He had been gone all day at the fire station, and I hadn’t realized how much I missed him until he was right there. He lifted me and kissed my cheek.
“Hey, sweetheart.”
I wrapped my arms around his neck and leaned into him.
“Dad,” Ashby said quickly, “Stan called Milow weird and creepy. Tell him that’s not nice.”
“But you lied!” Stan argued. “You said she knows a secret language!”
“She does! And she’s teaching it to me!”
“Boys,” Gus ordered, his voice firmer now. “Sit down on the bed for a moment.”
They both groaned but climbed onto the bed. Gus walked over to the desk and sat down on the chair, placing me on his lap. His arm wrapped around me, keeping me close to him.
“Let’s settle down,” he said, looking between them. “Stanley, has Ashby not told you about Milow?”
Stan crossed his arms and shrugged. “No.”
“Okay,” Gus said calmly. “Well, this is Milow. She lives here with us now.”
Stan shrugged again. “Okay. So?”
“So,” Gus repeated with a small, amused chuckle. It sounded like this wasn’t his first time dealing with him. “She’s family. And I’d like for you to get along since you’re Ashby’s best friend, and you spend a lot of time together.”
Stan opened his mouth, then closed it again. “But… but…” He frowned, searching for the right words. “Why doesn’t she talk to me? That’s rude.”
“She’s not rude!” Ashby said immediately. “She just doesn’t want to speak.”
“But I said hi, and she didn’t say it back!”
“Boys,” Gus warned again. They both went quiet.
When he had their attention, he continued with a gentler voice.
“You see, Milow doesn’t speak the same way you do,” Gus explained.
His hand rested on my back as he spoke, giving me the comfort I needed in this moment.
“She has something called selective mutism. That means she can speak, but her voice doesn’t always feel safe to use. So she chooses not to.”
Stan blinked and uncrossed his arms. But he still didn’t understand.
“She hasn’t chosen to speak yet,” Gus went on. “And that’s okay. She communicates in other ways. With her hands. With her expressions. With listening. And one day, when she’s ready, she might use her voice too.”
I pressed my face into Gus’s shoulder. I didn’t think I ever would. I wanted to stay obedient, and I didn’t want my voice to come back because that would mean I was naughty. The magic had taken my voice for a reason, and I wanted to keep it that way.
Stan was quiet for a long moment. I peeked at him from where I sat, my heart tapping nervously in my chest. His face softened.
“Oh,” he said finally. “So… she’s not being rude to me.”
“No,” Gus said. “She’s just being herself.”
Stan nodded slowly. He looked at Ashby, then back at me. “I didn’t know,” he murmured, a little awkward. “I’m sorry I said you were weird.”
I studied him, and I could see the honesty in his eyes. He dangled his feet and played with his fingers, then he lifted one hand in a small wave. “Hi, Milow. It’s nice to meet you.”
I hesitated. He was trying to start over.
No one had ever wanted to try to start over again, because after not understanding me, they just pushed me aside.
No one ever wanted to keep up with me because that was much easier.
But Stan was different in that way. Maybe he wasn’t necessarily doing it for me, but for Ashby and Gus instead, but it was enough.
I slowly lifted my hands, forcing myself to be brave.
[It’s nice to meet you, too.]
Ashby gasped like it was the coolest thing he’d ever seen, as if he hadn’t seen me sign before. “See!” he said triumphantly. “I told you!”
Stan’s jaw dropped. “Whoa! That’s… actually so cool. Can you teach me too?”
“Of course, she can,” Ashby answered for me.
“Awesome!” Stan exclaimed, throwing his hands into the air before he looked at me with a more serious expression. “I won’t be mean again. I promise.”
I knew promises were something big. Daddy always promised to keep me safe and happy, and he always promised never to hurt me.
But Daddy broke his promises. I wasn’t sure if I could trust Stan when he promised not to be mean to me again, but what choice did I have?
He was Ashby’s best friend, and Gus seemed to like him, too.
Gus pressed his cheek to the side of my head. “All right,” he said gently. “I’m glad we talked about this. We’re having dinner in a bit, buddy.”
Ashby groaned, but he didn’t argue. “Can Stan stay for dinner?”
Gus thought about it as he set me back down and got up from the chair. “Fine with me. I’ll call Dean and ask.”
I assumed Dean was Stan’s dad.
“He’ll say yes anyway,” Stan stated, his attention already on the superheroes scattered all over the carpet.
“I’ll still call and ask. Ashby, ten more minutes, okay?”
“Okay.”
I was torn between following Gus downstairs and staying up here. Now that Stan was here, I wasn’t so sure if Ashby still wanted me to play with him. He was already explaining something to Stan with big arm gestures, and Stan was listening, setting the superheroes up the way Ash wanted.
Gus brushed the back of my head with his hand, then he left, leaving me standing there in the middle of the bedroom. I took in the scene in front of me again, watching as the boys continued to set up the heroes, talking over each other without arguing.
They got along well, and a small part of me wanted to be part of what they had. Stan was Ashby’s friend, and that had to mean something.
So, I told myself I would do my best to be open to Stan—or any other friend of Ashby’s I’d get to meet along the way.
I wanted to do it for Ashby. And, maybe, a small part of me wanted to do it for myself, too.