Page 38 of Rocking Her Silence

A few more clicks tell me that'AP' aka ‘perfect pitch'is the rare ability to identify tones without a reference note and to recreate these tones perfectly both with musical instruments and through the human voice. Wow.

So, basically, I can't hear almost anything at all, and he can hear everything perfectly. If this is not some type of cruel cosmic joke, I don't know what the heck irony is. The universe is such an asshole sometimes.

I spend the next hour or so going back to try and solve a mystery that's been pestering my mind since Penny first told me who Carson Gabriel was.

What in the world does the band name –Burning 21– even mean?

Why did they pick this name?

I've been looking on and off for days now, and I can't find a straight answer.

It's frustrating.

The internet is riddled with speculations about this.

Not two hypotheses are alike. Not even diehard fans seem to know the real truth. For some reason, whenever asked, Carson and his bandmates refuse to answer. It's been said that it's something that they are neverevergoing to tell.

Just then, I see my brother come into the living room. He waves hello at me, comes near, and drops a kiss on my forehead.

'Anna is asleep?'he asks, his hands moving in a tired pattern.

I nod and sign back —no need to sim-com since Anna is sleeping.'As usual, she conked at around nine.'

Jared sits next to me, his large frame stealing most of the oversized couch from me. He turns to look at me sideways.'Did she eat?'

I nod again. I notice that he has deep, dark circles under his eyes and shake my head.'You look like crap, Jar.'

He gives me a narrowed look.'Gee, enough with the compliments, sis!'

I roll my eyes. Always retreating in his jokes, this one.'I'm serious! You work too hard! When was the last time you slept more than four hours in a night?'

He shrugs.'I can't remember, to be honest…'

I huff out a breath, dropping my arms onto my lap. Then I start to sign again.'This is insane, Jar! You got to get some time off or something. You need to take care of yourself. If not for yourself, for Anna, then.'

He slides lower down the sofa and yawns, looking away.'You are right…'

I tap his arm once to make him look at me, all the while trying to discretely turn the screen of my laptop away from his prying eyes. I wish I could just slam it close, but my brother knows I normally have nothing to hide from him, and so doing that will result in giving me immediately away.

When I have his attention and the laptop is sufficiently tilted to the side, I sign to him:'I made you lasagne. It's keeping warm in the oven.'

Jared squeezes my shoulder in thanks, smiling at me.'Best sister in the world! I'm starving!'

He carefully stands up from the couch again and stretches his back and all his limbs. He really looks beat.

I almost think that I'm in the clear when he stops and gives me a little knowing smirk.'And by the way, no need to hide your laptop screen, Squirrel. I already saw what you were reading about when I got in.'

I cross my arms over my chest, giving him a defiant look, then sign.'And do you have anything to say about it?'

He nods.'Oh, plenty, really. But would you listen if I did?'

I roll my eyes.'No.'

My brother shakes his head.'Typical. You are so stubborn sometimes.'

I scoff, my eyebrows going up as I point at myself and sign'Kettle'then point at him: 'Pot.'

He chuckles. He knows I'm right. We are both as stubborn as can be.

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