The Sign Language He Faked, The Family He Hid Chapter 06

The Sign Language He Faked, The Family He Hid Chapter 06

The day after the livestream, I went to the hospital alone.

I asked for every treatment record from the past three years.

The doctor was silent for a long moment before handing me a thick file.

Over those three years, I had been cleared for cochlear implant activation on four separate occasions.

The first was one month before Camille gave birth.

Grant had told me my incision still hadn’t healed and that going ahead with the activation could cause an

infection.

But the actual medical record said: [Implant readings stable. Cleared for activation as scheduled.]

The request to postpone it had come from Grant.

The second time was after Stella turned one month old.

Grant told me the specialist had suddenly left the country and that the next available appointment wouldn’t

be for another six months.

But the hospital records showed that he had declined the activation on my behalf, claiming I was at serious

risk of self–harm.

The third time, he told me there was a problem with my implant model.

According to the records, the implant had been functioning normally all along.

That time, Mom and my brother had both signed as well.

They claimed I wouldn’t be able to handle the sudden return of sound and asked that all treatment notices be

sent only to Grant.

And this most recent time, there had been nothing wrong with the implant data at all.

Grant simply hadn’t wanted me to hear again before Stella could openly call him Daddy

I turned to the last page.

The notes read:

[Patient communication relies primarily on husband for interpretation.]

[Family has repeatedly stated that patient agrees to postponement.]

But no one had ever asked me directly.

No one had ever asked whether I actually agreed.

At the hospital, I signed a new authorization form revoking Grant’s authority to act as my medical contact or

sign–language interpreter.

From then on, all test results had to be given directly to me in writing.

No family member was to make another treatment decision on my behalf without my direct confirmation.

I had barely finished updating the paperwork when Grant showed up.

Just as he always had, he crouched in front of me and raised his hands.

[Elise, come home with me.]

I answered out loud.

“Talk to me.”

His hands stopped in midair.

“You used to love it when I signed to you.”

“I did. Because back then, I thought you wouldn’t lie to me.”

Grant slowly lowered his hands.

“I kept postponing the activation because I was afraid you’d find out about Stella and get into another

accident.”

“I already almost lost you once.”

“I couldn’t bear it happening a second time.”

“So you decided to keep me deaf?”

“No.”

He rushed to explain.

“I was just waiting for the right time.”

“First, I needed you to accept that Camille was back.”

“Then I needed you to accept Stella as our goddaughter.”

“Once everything settled down, I was going to tell you the truth.”

I couldn’t help laughing.

“So your idea of the right time was after you’d gotten me to publicly vouch for your daughter?”

“After the whole world believed she was my goddaughter, you were finally going to tell me she was actually

yours and Camille’s?”

The color drained from Grant’s face.

“Stella is innocent.”

“I’ve never blamed her.”

“The people I’m holding responsible are the adults who used a three–year–old to force me to lie for them.”

I put the divorce papers in front of him.

Attached were the paternity test, the hotel video, and my hospital records.

The papers laid out his affair.

They detailed the daughter he’d fathered with Camille outside our marriage and kept hidden from me.

They documented how he’d exploited my deafness for years to interfere with my treatment.

They also listed the marital funds he’d spent on Camille and Stella’s living expenses, medical care, and

education over the past three years.

Every item was spelled out clearly.

Grant wouldn’t touch the papers.

“I won’t divorce you.”

“Elise, I took care of you for three years.”

“I learned sign language one sign at a time.”

“When you were going through the worst period of your life, I was the one who stayed beside you.”

I looked at him.

“You weren’t there for me.”

“You used sign language to shut every other voice out until yours was the only one I could trust.”

“Getting my hearing back isn’t why I’m divorcing you.”

“Getting my hearing back is how I discovered that not one of you had told me the truth in three years.”

He still refused to pick up the papers.

I didn’t wait any longer.

After I left the hospital, I moved into an apartment near the hearing rehabilitation center.

Grant had no key, no place in my medical records, and no listing as my emergency contact.