Daniel’s jaw tightened.
Every instinct screamed at him to crumple the paper, throw it back, tell her he wanted nothing to do with the company that killed Rachel.
Vivien watched his face like she could read the storm without hearing thunder.
Daniel forced himself to sign.
Why me?
Vivien’s hands moved slowly, deliberate.
Because you signed to me like I mattered.
Because your daughter didn’t look at me like I was broken.
Because I want this project to be real, not performative.
Daniel swallowed hard.
He signed again.
You know who I am?
Vivien hesitated. Then her hands answered with brutal honesty.
I looked you up after I left.
I recognized your name.
I read the case.
Daniel’s vision sharpened with anger.
And?
Vivien’s throat bobbed as she swallowed. Her hands moved again.
And I’m sorry.
Not the kind of sorry that fixes it.
The kind that admits it happened.
That word. Sorry.
Daniel wanted to hate her for it. Wanted to spit it back. Wanted to say sorry was a cheap coin CEOs used when they didn’t want to pay real debt.
But before he could respond, Sophie appeared beside him.
She was early, brought in by a neighbor Daniel paid in favors and frozen pizza.
Sophie looked at Vivien, then at the envelope, then up at Daniel’s face.
She studied him the way kids do when they know adults are hiding storms.
Then she signed, slow and careful, as if choosing each word like it mattered.
Dad, maybe this time you can fix what hurt us.
Daniel froze.
That sentence hit him harder than any lawyer ever had.
Sophie was seven and already wise enough to see what he couldn’t.
That rage wouldn’t bring Rachel back.
That hiding wouldn’t change the past.
That maybe, just maybe, the only way to honor Rachel wasn’t to burn the world down.
It was to rebuild something better in the space the fire left behind.
Daniel looked at Vivien.
Vivien met his gaze, steady, waiting like she understood decisions that cost everything.
Daniel nodded once.
“I’ll come in next week,” he said aloud, then signed it too, for Sophie and for Vivien.
Vivien’s shoulders dropped slightly, relief she didn’t try to hide.
She signed to Sophie.
Your dad is very brave.
Sophie grinned and signed back without hesitation.
I know.
Daniel almost laughed, but the sound got stuck behind grief.
Because bravery didn’t feel brave.
It felt like stepping into a building that once burned you, hoping this time it wouldn’t catch again.
Oralless Technologies looked exactly like Daniel remembered from the news coverage during the lawsuit.
Glass and steel towering over downtown Seattle like a monument to progress.
Inside the lobby, marble floors reflected LED screens that flashed stock prices and company achievements. People in expensive suits moved with the confidence of those who knew they were winning.
Daniel felt out of place immediately.
His jeans were worn. His jacket frayed at the cuffs. He’d cleaned his shoes twice, but they still looked like they belonged to a man who measured money in groceries, not investments.
Sophie clutched his hand tightly, eyes wide as she took in the gleaming surfaces and the hum of voices echoing off high ceilings she couldn’t hear but could feel.
Vivien met them at the elevator.
She’d returned to her CEO uniform: tailored blazer, sharp heels, hair pulled back into a neat style that said don’t waste my time.
But when she saw Sophie, her expression softened in a way Daniel didn’t expect.
She knelt and signed.
I’m glad you came.
Sophie signed back.
This place is big. Do you own all of it?
Vivien’s smile flickered.
I’m in charge of it. That’s different.
They rode the elevator to the fifteenth floor where the AI research lab occupied an entire wing. Vivien had set aside a private room for Daniel and Sophie, equipped with computers, whiteboards, and a corner filled with books and toys for Sophie to occupy herself.
The other employees watched Daniel with curiosity and suspicion.
He felt their eyes like heat.
Who is he? Why is he here? Is he really qualified?
Vivien didn’t pretend not to notice.
She addressed the room, voice firm, and then repeated it in sign for Sophie.
“This man is a consultant on our most important project. He has expertise we need. Treat him with respect.”
Nobody argued.
Not out loud.
But Daniel still felt the tension in the air like static.
He spent the first week reviewing the AI system’s code, analyzing sign language recognition algorithms, testing translation accuracy. The work was familiar, pulling him back into the world he’d been forced to leave behind.
And despite everything, despite the anger and grief coiled inside him, he found himself caring about the project.
Because it wasn’t just code.
It was a bridge.
A way for people like Sophie to be understood without begging.
Vivien stopped by the lab each afternoon, checking progress, asking questions.
Their conversations were a mix of spoken words and signed phrases, slipping naturally between the two. Daniel noticed how Vivien relaxed when she signed, like she was allowed to be herself instead of the persona she wore in boardrooms.
Sophie became a fixture in the office, charming staff with her drawings and fearless use of sign language. She sat in meetings coloring quietly, occasionally signing questions that made engineers laugh.
What’s an algorithm?
Why do computers need to learn?
Can they dream?
Daniel felt something he hadn’t felt in years.
Not happiness exactly.
But the edge of it.
Possibility.
Then Marcus Hail found out.
Marcus Hail was forty, tall and lean, slicked-back blonde hair, eyes the color of old ice. He wore custom suits and a diamond-studded watch that cost more than most people’s cars.
He’d been with Oralless fifteen years, climbing by calculated decisions and strategic ruthlessness.
When he heard Vivien hired a consultant without board approval and that the consultant was Daniel Brooks, he didn’t bother hiding contempt.
He walked into the lab one afternoon without knocking.
His presence filled the room like cold air.
Daniel looked up from his screen.
Sophie was at the table drawing, head bent, unaware of the spoken words but sensing tension like a weather change.
Marcus smiled thinly.
“So,” he said, “you think your sob story earned you a seat at this table?”
Daniel’s stomach clenched.
He’d seen Marcus’s face before in depositions and articles.
The man who’d killed his wife through negligence and covered it with money.
“I was invited,” Daniel said quietly.
Marcus stepped closer.
“You’re a washed-up engineer who couldn’t hack it in the real world,” Marcus said, voice low but sharp. “And now you’re here playing house with the CEO, using your deaf kid as a sympathy card.”
Sophie looked up, sensing the shift even if she couldn’t hear the insult. Her eyes moved between Daniel and Marcus, uncertain.
Daniel’s hands curled into fists.
“My daughter has nothing to do with this,” Daniel said, every word controlled.
Marcus’s smile sharpened.
“Vivien has a weakness for charity cases,” he said. “But this company doesn’t run on feelings. It runs on results.”
He leaned in just enough for Daniel to feel the threat in his breath.
“And you,” Marcus finished, “are just another liability waiting to happen.”
Then he turned and walked out like he owned the air.
The door clicked shut.
Sophie signed, brows furrowed.
Bad man?
Daniel forced his hands open, forced his face calm.
He signed back.
Yes. But you’re safe.
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