Chapter 29
Ashby
“What happened?” I asked, my heart thudding hard against my ribs. “Why is she crying?”
My eyes moved between Mom and Dad, then landed on Wesley. I held his gaze longer than the others, silently begging him to explain whatever they were keeping from me. His ice-blue eyes were red and swollen. He looked like he’d been crying too.
“What happened?” I asked again. I couldn’t bring myself to look at Milow again.
She was staring down at her hands, with her shoulders drawn in.
She wasn’t looking up at me either. Panic crawled up my spine.
I hated this. Hated that everyone seemed to know something I didn’t, and that they wouldn’t just tell me.
“What the fuck happened?” I demanded, my voice rising despite myself.
“Come sit down, champ,” Dad said gently, patting the space beside him.
But I ignored him.
I didn’t want to sit next to Dad. I wanted to be next to Milow. So I crossed the room and sat down beside her instead, immediately taking both her hands in mine. I leaned closer, my brows knitting together. “Milow, are you okay?”
She didn’t look up.
A sick, hollow feeling settled deep in my gut.
Something was wrong. Something bad had happened, and my first irrational thought was that I’d done something.
I knew I hadn’t. I would never hurt her.
Not her. Not anyone. Ever. Still, the questions kept coming.
Why wouldn’t she look at me? Why was she crying?
Why was nobody telling me what the fuck was going on?
“Ash,” Mom said softly, her voice breaking as she sniffed back tears. “There is something we want to tell you.”
“What?” The word came out sharper than I meant it to. I didn’t care anymore. I needed answers, and I needed them now. I tightened my grip on Milow’s hands. I knew she wouldn’t sign. Not in the state she was in. And I needed her touch to keep me calm. But on the inside, I was breaking apart.
Mom took a breath and looked at Dad. “Gus…”
He nodded and rubbed his hands together, staring down at the floor as if the right words were written there. When he finally looked up, his lips were pressed tight.
“Son,” he said quietly, “I need you to be strong, okay?”
My chest tightened again. “Did someone die?” My head snapped toward Wesley. “Where’s Evie?”
“Evie’s okay,” Wesley said quickly. “She’s with her parents this weekend.”
I looked back at Dad, with my brows raised, and my heart racing.
“Nobody died,” Dad said. “Nobody’s hurt. This is about Milow.”
I felt my heart break for her, without knowing what it was. I’d been bracing for it without realizing.
“What about Milow?” I squeezed her hands harder, and she squeezed back.
I still couldn’t look at her. If I did, I knew I’d fall apart.
I just needed to feel her there. To know she was with me, and that whatever they were about to say could be fixed.
For her, I’d fix anything, no matter how difficult it would be.
I stopped asking questions then. Because the more I questioned everything, the worse my thoughts became. So, I waited.
“Your mother and I have been keeping something from you,” Dad said slowly. He cleared his throat. “From all of you kids. Not because we thought we could hide it forever, but because we were waiting for the right time.”
“Go on,” I said, my jaw locking. My patience was gone.
Dad’s eyes flicked to Milow. His face tightened, and his jaw clenched. His eyes filled with tears, but he fought them. He’d already cried today. All of them had.
“You see,” he said carefully, “Milow… she’s mute.”
I frowned. “Yeah. No shit.”
The words came out harsher than I ever spoke. This conversation was dragging something ugly out of me. It was turning me into someone I didn’t want to be or had ever been.
“She chooses not to speak,” I added.
Dad shook his head slowly. “That’s not—” He stopped, glanced at Milow, then back at me. “She can’t speak.”
I stared at him. “What do you mean she can’t speak?”
Nothing felt real. This had to be a nightmare. Some warped dream. Maybe I’d hit my head swimming. Maybe I was unconscious. But then Milow squeezed my hands again, and I knew I was wide awake.
“Milow doesn’t have vocal cords.”
The words didn’t make sense. Everyone had vocal cords.
I just stared at him, my brows drawn together, unable to form another question. Were they messing with me? Was this a sick joke?
“You see, champ,” Dad continued, his voice heavy as he let his head drop again. His hands rubbed together. When he looked up, he looked at Milow first. “Milow, how much can I tell him?”
“Everything!” I snapped. “Tell me everything!”
Milow looked at Dad and nodded slowly, giving him permission.
Mom reached out and rubbed Dad’s back. He inhaled deeply, calming himself.
“When Milow was little,” he said, “before we adopted her… she lived alone with her father. Her father was a doctor. A surgeon.”
I couldn’t look away from him. His face hardened, anger cutting deep lines into his expression. Whatever came next burned inside him. I had never seen him like this, and it scared me shitless.
Milow’s fingers curled in my hands. She started picking at her thumb. I caught it immediately and threaded my fingers through hers, stopping her from hurting herself.
“When Milow was four years old—” Dad stopped.
My heart slammed against my chest.
“When she was four,” he said, voice breaking, “her father removed her—”
A low, broken sound tore from his throat. He swallowed hard, forcing the words out before the tears fell.
“He removed her vocal cords. By surgery.”
Dad was crying now. His jaw trembled, his hands curling into tight fists before he finally dropped his face into them.
Mom stayed strong for him, holding herself together when he couldn’t.
Wesley, who had been sitting in the armchair, got up and moved closer.
He sat beside Dad and wrapped an arm around his shoulders, pulling him in without a word.
I was too overwhelmed to even form a clear thought. Anger was there, but it tangled with disbelief. After what he’d just told me, it felt impossible that this was real life. It was like I was inside someone else’s nightmare. I must’ve been asleep. There was no other explanation.
Why would a father do that? Why would anyone want to remove their daughter’s vocal cords?
What was the purpose? What could be gained from it?
The questions piled up, one after another, each worse than the last. There was no logic to it.
No explanation that could make sense. Just cruelty.
Just something horrific done to a child who should have been protected.
I had never learned about Milow’s past, and now… this. Her father was a sick bastard.
My chest hurt, and my head buzzed.
Finally, I looked at Milow. I needed to see her eyes.
“Milow,” I said quietly.
I wasn’t sure why I needed her to look at me.
But even though I knew I wasn’t the reason she was this upset, that bad feeling wouldn’t leave.
Guilt pressed down inside of me. I hated that I hadn’t been there for her when her father did that to her, even if I would’ve only been a kid myself.
I hated that I hadn’t known the truth. That Mom and Dad had kept it from us.
From me. From Wesley. And from Milow, too. But why?
My head snapped toward my parents. “Did Milow not know? I mean… if she can’t speak—”
I stopped myself.
I hated that I couldn’t ask Milow directly.
And the thought made my stomach twist. If she couldn’t speak, why would she believe she might one day?
But the second that question formed, I felt disgusted with myself.
It wasn’t fair. I had no right to accuse her of pretending or lying. This wasn’t about me.
This was her story.
And I was getting upset over something I had no fucking right to make into a big deal.
“I’m sorry,” I added quickly, shaking my head as I pulled my hands away from hers and ran them through my hair. “I just… I don’t understand.”
“It’s okay, Ash,” Wesley said. He moved again, this time coming to sit beside Milow. He reached around her back, squeezed my shoulder, and rested his other hand over Milow’s. He was being the protective big brother he always had.
“No, it’s not okay.” I frowned, shaking my head again. “Has she been forced to believe that she would someday start speaking again if she wanted to?”
Mom looked at me first, then her gaze shifted to Milow.
Guilt sat heavy in her eyes, and I hated it because it told me everything. That was exactly what had happened. Still, I knew it couldn’t have been easy for them either.
“We didn’t want to overwhelm her,” Mom said softly. “She was little. She…” She stopped, her gaze returning to Milow with a smile that hurt more than it helped. “We wanted the best for her. At first, we hoped that maybe… maybe there was a way. That she could speak again someday.”
I couldn’t blame them.
Mom was right. None of this could have been easy.
Finding out what Milow’s biological father had done.
Taking her in, trying to protect her, and figuring out how much truth a child could handle.
None of this was their fault. If anything, they saved her.
They gave her a real family. They gave all of us a home filled with love and safety.
We were all grateful for that.
I swallowed the shock and drew in a slow breath, forcing myself to stay calm. “Where is her father now?” I asked. “In jail? A psychiatric hospital?”
Milow stiffened beside me.
I turned to her immediately and took her other hand. “I’m so sorry,” I said quietly.
She finally looked at me.
The pain in her eyes was deeper than anything I had ever seen. She looked broken in a raw and devastating way.
“Her father…” Mom started.
I looked back at her, bracing myself and hoping for something that would satisfy me.
“He died,” Mom said. “Shortly before Milow came to live with us.”
Thank fuck.
That bastard wasn’t alive anymore.