The Lost Daughter

“Hello? Is anyone there?” Ryan called out. Looking around, she watched as dust mites flew up. Seeing the sheet covered furniture, she walked through the house, looking for something that she would recognize, something that would give her a reason why she received the key. The house felt familiar but she couldn’t pick anything out that gave her that specific feeling. “Well, this isn’t creepy at all.” She muttered, heading up the stairs, looking in the rooms. Suddenly, the dust flutter downstairs. Ryan searched for a hiding place. Seeing the attic opening, she jumped and grabbed the hole, watching as the trespasser looked around the landing. He was tall and muscular, his dark hair shaggy around his face. Dropping down behind him, Ryan studied as he turned quickly to see who was behind him. Caught in his amber eyes, she missed what he was saying.

“What? Who are you?” He studied her as he asked again who she was. She continued to stare at him. He asked her again. “That’s what I asked you. Who are you? How did you get in here?”

“Why?”

“I live next door. I saw the car.” He watched the petite, red-haired girl debate on what to tell him. Finally, she showed him the key. “I have a key. No breaking and entering.” He motioned for the key. Reluctantly, Ryan handed it over, looking at the attic again. Ryan glanced at him and nodded to the attic opening. She asked if he could help her up.

“I just wanted to make sure no one had broken in. We have kids try to get in all time. But I’ve not seen a car parked here for years.” Giving her a boost, she walked around the attic, heading towards the trunk that was left. Wiping off the dust, she opened the trunk expecting to see it packed only to find a single envelope. It had her name. Stuffing it quickly in her back pocket, she headed back towards the entrance, she jumped down. “Did you find anything up there? Hey,” the boy grabbed her arm.

“Sorry. Were you talking to me while I was up there?” Ryan pulled her arm from his hold. “I’m deaf. Can you repeat yourself?”

“You’re deaf? You seem to understand me fine. And you speak clearly.” Her eyes frosted at his words. He shook his head. “I just mean, I asked if you found anything up there and mentioned that there are always kids who try to get in here and party. Where did you get the key?”

“I lipread.” Ryan turned to leave, ignoring his question. Seeing him reach for her again, she turned and snapped. “What?”

“Did you find anything?” He asked again, suspicious of her reluctance.

“No. I didn’t.” She said, ignoring the letter in her pocket. “What do you care anyway?”

“I live next door. I remember the family who used to live here. Where did you get the key?”

“Can you tell about the family?” Ryan countered.

Sighing, he nodded. “Come over next door to mine. It’s free of dust mites.” He looked at her as he headed to the stairs. “I’m Colt Murray, by the way.”

“Colt?” She asked, making sure she understood what he had said. “Is there anyone else over there?”

Colton thought about it and realized that she was a stranger, female, probably a little younger than him and was trying to be smart about being alone with strangers. “Colton. But everyone calls me Colt. My dad is working and I believe that my sister is hanging out at the beach. Why don’t we go out to the beach? They’ll be other people around.”

Ryan nodded. She followed him down the stairs and towards the beach. Seeing his lips moving, she touched his shoulder. “If I can’t see your lips, I can’t understand you.”

“You’re really deaf?” He looked at the flame-haired girl.

“Is that so hard to believe?” She glared at him. “I have hearing aids.” She took them out as if to prove it to him.

“You don’t have an accent. So what happened? You obviously weren’t born deaf.”

Ryan glared. She hated this part of explaining about her hearing loss. Ignoring his question, she motioned for them to keep walking. “Let’s keep walking.”

“Fine.” He shrugged. “Are you ever going to tell me your name?”

“Ryan.”

“It’s nice to meet you. So, do you sign?”

She sighed. “Yes, it’s the easiest form of communication with me, but with the hearing, I speak.”

“You speak well.” He lifted his hands at her glance. “Hey, I don’t know what to say or not to say. But you do. You don’t have an accent. Well, you have some kind of accent but it’s not hard to understand like – “

“Like what? The people on TV? Not all deafies speak that way.” She shook her head. “I took speech therapy.” They walked in silence for a few minutes. Finally, Ryan asked about the house. “So, can you tell me about the family that used to live there?”

“After you tell me how you got the key.” He countered. “This is the third time I’ve asked.”

“You sound like a cop. But you’re a little young to be a cop. Unless, you are like five years older than me.”

“I’m seventeen. My dad is a private investigator and my uncle is a cop. So, how did you get that key?”

“I got it in the mail this morning,” she admitted. “It was in an envelope with this address on it.” She didn’t mention that it had her name on the outside.

“So you decided to check it out? By yourself?” He looked at her in disbelief.

“I didn’t have anything else to do today.” She shrugged.