Part 2My Last Walk Home

The call ended.

Mia's mom stood in the snow, phone still in her hand. Speechless.

I floated above them, watching.

Then I remembered Dad.

Back when he was still with us.

I was five. Maybe six.

I could still hear then.

Mom and Dad fought every day.

Eventually, they got divorced.

The day Dad left, he stood in the doorway and looked at me.

Then he crouched and took my hand.

"Come with me, okay?"

I looked back.

Mom stood in the middle of the living room, clutching her apron so hard her knuckles went white.

She wasn't crying, but her lips shook. Her chin too. Like she might break any second.

Her eyes begged me not to go.

She was scared I'd leave too.

I thought if I went with Dad, Mom would be completely alone.

So I said no.

After Dad left, Mom hugged me so tight I could barely breathe.

"Vienna," she whispered, "you're all I have now."

After that, she poured everything into me.

Her expectations were simple.

Be number one.

She said grades were all we had left.

She said I couldn't end up like Dad, wasting my life.

I figured she was right.

So I studied as hard as I could.

Then one time, I got a B+.

Third-grade math test.

I couldn't crack the last word problem.

It was raining when school got out. Mom picked me up on her e-bike, and I held an umbrella over us from the back.

On the way home, she asked how I did.

When I told her I got a B+, she went quiet.

A few blocks later, she stopped.

"Get off."

I did.

Rain hit my face so hard I could barely see. I hugged my backpack to my chest.

Mom twisted the throttle. The bike jerked forward.

Crying, I grabbed the edge of her coat.

"Mom, I'm sorry. I'll do better next time. I promise—"

She peeled my fingers off and rode away.

Then I realized she'd left the umbrella behind.

I ran after her, crying.

"Mom! Your umbrella! Don't you want it?"

The rain swallowed my voice.

So did the wind.

So did the tires slicing through puddles.

She never looked back.

It took me forty minutes to walk home in the rain.

That night, I developed a 103.6-degree fever.

It lasted all night, but I was too scared Mom would get mad, so I kept quiet.

She didn't realize anything was wrong until the next morning, when she rushed me to the hospital.

But when I woke up...

I couldn't hear.

Mom sat beside my bed without saying a word.

Her eyes were red. Hurt. Disappointed.

"If you'd told me your ears felt weird sooner, this never would've happened."

Later, Mom brought Sadie to live with us.

After that, everything changed.

Sadie was good at everything.

Top student. First in her grade on her very first unit test.

I wore hearing aids. Since I couldn't hear my own voice clearly, my words came out a little slurred.

Even when I studied as hard as I could, I only made third in my class.

Third sounded pretty good to me.

Mom didn't care.

"Look at your cousin," she snapped. "Straight A's, like it's nothing. Why can't you do that? Same teachers. Same books. She aces every test, and you're still bringing home B's? Are you even trying?"