“Her dad—” Madeline buries her face in her hands and sobs again. I hate hearing her cry, and I put a hand on her back. I rub a small circle over her shoulders, smiling when Lucy puts her arms around her mom’s neck. It’s amazing how she can sense emotion. “He didn’t want…” “And I do. I’m going to practice every single day. I won’t stop until I know every word, every phrase, every handshape in existence. In English. In ASL. In whatever other language Lucy wants to learn.”
