Chapter 31
While the men conferred outside, the kitchen had settled into a rhythmic hum.
Sadie, Nancy, and Elena moved in a synchronized dance. Outside, the colorful tablecloths were snapping in the breeze, ready for the homecoming crowd, but inside, the focus was on the food.
Nancy hummed as she worked, a soft, wandering melody that seemed to center her.
The kitchen was chaotic—pots clanging, timers dinging—but Sadie had an almost supernatural ability to keep Nancy calm.
She didn't push. When Nancy seemed overwhelmed, Sadie would gently touch her arm and wait, allowing Nancy to write down her thoughts rather than forcing her to speak.
Elena watched them, her knife pausing over a bundle of carrots. She thought of Aaron and the software he used for his dyslexia. If technology could help him read, couldn’t it help Nancy speak?
She wiped her hands on a towel and pulled out her phone, leaning against the counter while the others worked. She typed in text-to-speech devices for non-verbal adults.
The results populated quickly. Dedicated communication tablets. Custom interfaces. Hope flared in her chest—until she saw the prices. Thousands of dollars.
Elena let out a sharp sigh, her shoulders slumping.
Sadie looked up from the dough she was kneading. “Everything okay?”
“I had an idea for Nancy,” Elena whispered, angling the phone away so Nancy wouldn’t see. “A speech-generating device. But the cost... it’s astronomical.”
Sadie wiped the flour from her hands and walked over. “Let me see.”
She took the phone, scrolling through the list with a critical eye. She didn't flinch at the numbers. She stopped on a high-end model. “This one looks intuitive. I’ll have it shipped overnight.”
Elena blinked. “Sadie, that’s... that’s thousands of dollars. We can’t ask you to do that.”
Sadie smiled, a small, enigmatic curve of her lips. “You aren’t asking. I’m offering.”
“But—” Elena stammered. “I mean, I know Hank does well, but...”
Sadie laughed, a rich, musical sound that seemed to brighten the room.
“I’m Sadie Patterson, yes. But before that, I was Sadie McClain.
” To most, she was a famous actress and philanthropist who used her spotlight to help others quietly.
But to her, above all, she was simply Sadie Patterson—Hank’s wife.
Elena froze. The name clicked instantly. The blockbuster movies. The magazine covers. “The actress? The Sadie McClain?”
“That’s the one,” Sadie whispered with a wink. “But right now, I’m just a friend helping Nancy.” She handed the phone back. “Order it. Put it on my card.”
Elena looked from the phone to Sadie, stunned by the casual generosity. “I don’t know what to say.”
“Don’t say anything,” Sadie said, turning back to the dough. “Nancy deserves a voice.”
Across the room, Nancy continued to hum, louder now, as if she could feel the shift in the air—a promise that she was finally going to be heard.