The Ballerina's Stand. Angel Smits

this was real.

      She typed Trey Haymaker into the search box. Another smattering of pictures appeared. Another reference to the Dallas ball. This time, a young man’s face stared back at her, smiling under a too-long mop of bright blond hair. She gasped. He looked too much like the face she saw in the mirror each day.

      His eyes shone bright, blue and light. He looked like the opposite of the other, austere faces. He looked happy.

      Maybe...maybe...this was real.

      She swallowed, and before she could stop herself, she saved both images to the hard drive.

      They were the only pictures she had of anyone related to her by blood. Her only family photos.

      She turned off the computer, not wanting to look anymore. A faded image filled her mind as she climbed the stairs to her room. Her mother’s picture, the only one she’d had, captured in a cheap fake-brass frame, had vanished in one of the many moves between foster homes.

      Her mother’s image had faded in Lauren’s mind with time. The wispy memories were vague now. She wished the internet could find her mother, but Rachel Ramsey had vanished long before there was an internet to capture pictures, words, lives.

      She’d made it halfway up the stairs when her phone vibrated in her pocket. Who was calling so late? Her heart hammered in her chest as she pulled up the screen.

      Dylan Bishop. His words appeared and she froze. I’m in jail. Help me. An address she recognized as the courthouse flashed on a second message.

      Her heart sank and she turned back around, hurrying down the stairs. What had happened? Her mind filled with images of the boy, in a cell, no one understanding his sign, no one bothering to realize he was deaf. She took a deep breath and texted for a cab.

      Please, please hurry. She had to purposefully stop her fingers from moving in the flow of the words.

      The bright yellow cab pulled up, and she hastily ran to greet it, leaving her quiet home and newfound images behind. She had no time for herself. Dylan and his sister, Tina, needed her. That was more important.

      * * *

      JASON STARED AT the computer screen. For once, he understood what all of his clients meant when they referred to legal gobbledygook. The pages on the screen looked like that to him right now.

      His concentration was off. It had been for days, ever since visiting Lauren Ramsey. Foolishly, he’d believed that Haymaker had given him full disclosure. Standing there in the rain, he’d felt like an idiot as she’d tried to explain her situation using sign language.

      Vague memories of having to learn the finger alphabet in something like fourth grade nagged at him. Fat lot of good that had done him. He couldn’t remember a damned thing.

      In anticipation of her coming in to the office, he’d found a sign language interpreting service. Their number was on a sticky note on the frame of his monitor. He’d also gotten online and downloaded a copy of that long-forgotten alphabet.

      He’d tried to make his fingers remember even simple letters. He had the skill level of a three-year-old, and for a lawyer who thought he had a fairly quick mind, who prided himself on his communication skills, that was very...daunting.

      But she hadn’t come in, called or emailed. Nothing. He’d wrestled with the decision of whether to contact her again. He wouldn’t normally, but then he didn’t normally go to people’s homes, either. He’d done that at Pal’s request.

      He stared at the folder on his desk. He’d give it to his assistant, Susan. Have her send a follow-up note to Lauren and call the Dallas firm for the rest of the info. Decision made, he forced himself to turn back to the computer and the briefs he needed to finish.

      “I don’t understand you.” He heard Susan’s voice come from outside his office. “I still don’t understand you,” she said a bit louder this time. Her response was the closest thing he’d ever heard to a frustrated growl from her. What the heck?

      He stepped to the office door and leaned out. Shocked, he stared at Lauren who stood in front of Susan’s desk, a tall, African American kid standing behind her. The boy’s anger practically singed the room, but he just stood there. Glaring.

      Jason watched, enthralled once again as Lauren’s fingers and hands flew. He didn’t understand any of it. She was too agitated, too fast for his meager skills.

      Susan’s voice broke through the haze of his mind as she practically yelled “I don’t understand you.” He had to save her and Lauren from this mess.

      “Susan, it’s okay.” He put a hand on Susan’s shoulder and smiled at her. It wasn’t her fault. She just didn’t know sign language and didn’t have the skills to automatically recognize a hearing-impaired person. He hadn’t the first time he’d met Lauren, either. The yelling wasn’t appropriate, though.

      “But, Mr. Hawkins, she doesn’t have an appointment,” Susan argued.

      Jason looked over at Lauren and held up his hand, hoping she’d understand his makeshift sign for wait a minute. He didn’t want her to leave.

      “I know,” he soothed Susan. “But I don’t have any appointments this afternoon. I’ll take this. Why don’t you head over to the coffee shop next door? I’ll buy.” He handed her a couple of bills and hustled her out of the office. She frowned, looking at the kid and Lauren as if she needed to protect Jason.

      Once Susan was gone, he turned back to Lauren and the boy. He didn’t want Susan there for several reasons, the least of which was her yelling. He was reluctant to step out of his comfort zone and show anyone at the firm that he was trying to figure out sign language.

      Facing Lauren, he very slowly forced his fingers to form the letters of her name. He didn’t know any full words, and his mind scrambled wondering how to communicate with her. He pointed at himself and formed the letters o-f-f-i-c-e. He didn’t know the sign for follow me, but he used the polite bow and wave toward his door.

      He met her gaze and saw her eyes widen. Her face was so incredibly expressive. Surprise and pleasure bloomed over her features. He was so damned pleased with himself, he had to shake himself out of it. She made a sign in response that could have been anything from thank you to go to hell, for all he knew. She turned to the boy and pointed him toward the office. Jason breathed a deep sigh of relief.

      Her fingers said so many things Jason couldn’t understand, and Jason quickly realized the boy was deaf as well.

      Lauren frowned and grimaced, then changed her features so quickly. He saw now that her features were a part of the signing. Like a bell going off in his mind, some things became very clear. What he was seeing now weren’t her emotions. Her body language was a part of her signing—her communication. She was talking with everything she had to the boy. She extended her arm and pointed again to the office. The frown she gave the boy reflected her displeasure with him.

      Jason kept staring at her, fascinated. His heart picked up pace. Maybe he could learn how to do this.

      He wasn’t stupid enough to think it would be easy, or quick. He had to get through this meeting, and he couldn’t conduct it all spelling out each word. Billing by the hour, he’d be the most expensive lawyer in history. He’d also drive himself nuts.

      He knew from his initial call to the interpreter that they needed a minimum of an hour’s notice. So what the heck was he going to do? He started hunting for a legal pad.

      The computer he’d been so frustrated with earlier seemed to glow as it sat there. He smiled. Then, hurrying behind the desk, he waved Lauren and the boy into the two chairs facing him.

      Jason didn’t have to know sign to read this kid. He did not want to sit or even be here, but for some reason, Lauren had dragged him down here.

      Jason cleared the screen and pulled up a blank word processing document. He turned the monitor toward them and typed his first question. Hello, Lauren. What can I do for you today? God, it sounded so formal,