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"So, I hear we just wanted to ask a few questions today about the procedure. Maybe see if it'd be a good fit for Vienna?"

"We'd just like to know more," Mom says. "We recently transferred Vienna into a traditional school here, and she's been… curious."

"Sure," Dr. Parth says brightly. "That's completely understandable."

I sign for V, and she follows my fingers, her eyes flicking back and forth between the three of us.

"So, as I'm sure you know, Golden City has one of the best audiology departments in the country," the doctor continues.

Mom exhales like hearing him say it out loud finally makes it real. "That's part of why we moved here."

"But not the coolest reason," I add.

Vienna smiles, and the tightness in my chest loosens a little more.

Dr. Parth laughs. "Now, that I believe. But we do cochlear implants rather often here—and quite successfully."

Mom inhales a deep breath as she sits back in her chair.

The conversation continues, Mom and I both asking questions as V soaks in all the answers. I notice that as time passes, she slowly sets the snacks down completely, sits up straighter, and leans in like she's really listening. She even chimes in a time or two with a question of her own:

Will they have to shave her head?

Does it come in different colors?

When Mom asks about risks, I choose my words carefully—not hiding things from my little sister but diluting them down to what's appropriate. Then, when finances come up—insurance deductibles, extended speech therapy, replacement or upgraded parts—I quietly place my hand on Mom's as it bounces on her knee.

"We're good with all that."

Her eyes dart to mine, and I squeeze my fingers around hers, looking at the doctor for him to continue.

"Well, alright then," he says, taking my hint. "If that's it, I'd say go home and talk about it as a family. Vienna, you be honest with everyone about what you're feeling because that's what's most important here. This is all about you."

V smiles, staring at his lips without needing interpretation.

"And you guys call if you have any more questions."

"Thanks, Doc," I say, standing and shaking his hand.

He slides his palm against mine and shakes his head. "Jace Holloway," he says again the same way as he did before.

We chuckle, and Mom stands to thank him next.

When he walks out of the room, Vienna immediately opens her bag of Cheetos, and Mom turns to me. "Hunny, you don't have to worry about—"

"Ma, it's fine," I cut in.

"Really, Jace. Tom and I have plenty of—"

"Mom," I say more sternly. "I know. Just let me take care of this. Please."

She purses her lips together and kisses my cheek. "You're a good brother."

"Yeah, the best," I joke. "Hey, I'm gonna run if that's okay. I smell like an airplane, and my sneakers are soggy from jogging through the parking lot."

"Go," Mom says. "I have to call Tom and fill him in anyway. He's probably sitting by his office phone."

"Okay."