The girl pointed at herself and signed her name. Skye didn’t know sign language, but she nodded anyway. She understood enough. The girl smiled a little bigger this time.
Skye looked at the hearing device again. The girl’s hand had drifted back toward it twice now. Skye pointed at her ear and made a face like it hurt. “Does it?”
The girl nodded fast, like she’d been waiting for someone to ask. Skye leaned in closer, squinting. There was a little redness behind the device. Not much, but enough. She touched the girl’s shoulder softly.
“Hold still, okay?”
The girl understood. Skye moved slowly. She didn’t want to scare her. She reached up and gently touched the area around the device. Not the device itself, just near it. The girl flinched. Skye pulled back. “Sorry.”
But the girl shook her head. She grabbed Skye’s hand and put it back near her ear. She wanted Skye to keep going.
Skye’s heart pounded. She didn’t know what she was looking for, but she trusted the feeling, that pull, that voice inside her that said, keep going, something’s there. She pressed lightly behind the device, and the girl winced again. Skye froze. There. Right there. It wasn’t just sore; something was wrong. She looked the girl in the eyes.
“Something’s in there. I can feel it.”
The girl stared at her, eyes wide. Skye didn’t know if she understood, but it didn’t matter. She had to check. She moved her fingers carefully, feeling around the edges of the device. And then, she felt it: something hard, small, metallic. Her breath caught. It wasn’t part of the hearing device. It was something else, something that didn’t belong.
Skye’s hands started shaking. “What is that?” She looked at the girl. “Did the doctors put this here?”
The girl shook her head. She didn’t know. Skye’s mind raced. How long had it been there? Why didn’t anyone notice? She pressed a little harder, trying to feel how deep it was. The girl grabbed Skye’s wrist—not to stop her, but to brace herself. Skye’s chest tightened.
“This is hurting you, isn’t it?”
The girl nodded, tears filling her eyes. Not crying, just relieved, like someone finally believed her. Skye swallowed hard. She didn’t know what to do. She wasn’t a doctor. She was just a kid. But she couldn’t leave it there. Whatever it was, it was causing pain, and it didn’t belong. She looked the girl in the eyes.
“I’m gonna try to get it out, okay?”
The girl hesitated, then she nodded. Skye took a deep breath. Her hands were still shaking, but she steadied them. She hooked her finger gently behind the device, feeling for the object. It was wedged in tight, too tight. She’d have to pull.
“Are you ready?”
The girl squeezed her eyes shut and nodded. Skye counted in her head: one, two, three. She pulled. The girl gasped silently, mouth open, body stiff.
And then, footsteps—heavy, fast, getting closer. Sky’s head snapped up. A man was running toward them—big, leather jacket, boots pounding the pavement. He looked terrified. Skye’s heart stopped. Was he coming to help or to stop her?
The man was huge: beard, tattoos on his arms, leather vest, boots that made the ground shake. He was sprinting straight toward them. Skye’s first instinct was to run, but the girl grabbed her wrist, hard. Don’t leave me.
Skye stayed. The man’s face was twisted, but not with anger—with fear. He skidded to a stop in front of them, breathing hard.
“Don’t touch that!” he shouted.
The billionaire’s daughter flinched at the loudness even though she couldn’t hear him. Skye stood up, putting herself between the man and the girl.
“I’m helping her,” Skye said, voice shaking.
“You don’t understand.”
“She’s in pain.”
The man froze. His eyes darted to the girl, then back to Skye. “I know,” he said quietly. “I know she is.”
Skye blinked. “Then why are you yelling at me?”
“Because if you pull that out wrong, it could…” He stopped himself. Took a breath. “Just let me explain.”
Skye didn’t move. “Explain what?”
The man knelt down, trying to look less scary. It didn’t work. “I’m not here to hurt her,” he said. “I’m here because I’ve been trying to help her for months.”
“Who are you?”
“I work security for her family. I drive her sometimes. Watch the house.”
Skye frowned. “If you work for them, why didn’t you tell them something’s wrong?”
His jaw tightened. “I did. Nobody listened.”
“Why not?”
“Because they think I’m just some guy who rides a motorcycle and looks like trouble. They don’t take me seriously.”
Skye studied his face. He wasn’t lying; she could tell.
“What’s in her ear?” she asked.
He hesitated. “I don’t know exactly. But I noticed something weeks ago. She kept touching it. Wincing. I told her parents. I told the doctors.”
“And?”
“They said I was imagining things. That the device was fine. That she was just adjusting.”
Skye looked back at the girl. She was watching them both, trying to read their lips. “She’s not adjusting,” Skye said. “Something’s stuck in there.”
The man nodded. “I know. I’ve been looking for a way to prove it. But nobody will listen to me.”
“Then why stop me?”
“Because I don’t want you to get blamed if something goes wrong.”
Skye’s chest tightened. “I have to try.”
“I know.” His voice cracked. “I’ve been waiting for someone to try.” He looked at the girl, eyes filling with guilt. “I’m sorry I couldn’t do more.”
The girl reached out and touched his hand. He almost broke down right there. Skye sat back down next to the girl.
“I’m gonna get it out.”
The man nodded. “Be careful. Please.”
Skye looked at him. “If something goes wrong, it’s not your fault.”
“And it’s not yours either.”
She nodded. The girl looked between them, then grabbed both their hands. She trusted them. Both of them. Even though one was a stranger and the other had failed to protect her, she trusted them because they were the only ones who saw her pain.
Skye took a deep breath. “Okay. I’m doing it now.”
The man stayed close, ready to help if needed. The girl closed her eyes, and Skye reached for the object again. This time she wasn’t stopping. No matter who came running. No matter what happened next. She was getting it out because no one else would.
Skye shut everything else out—the man, the street, the cars passing by. All that mattered was the girl in front of her. She positioned herself carefully, kneeling on both knees now. The girl opened her eyes and looked directly at Skye. There was fear there, but also hope. Skye gave her a small nod. “I got you.”
The girl nodded back. Skye looked at the man. “If I hurt her, stop me.”
“I will.”
Skye turned back to the girl and gently moved her hair aside. The hearing device sat snug behind her ear. The skin around it was… red. Swollen. How had nobody noticed this? How had doctors missed it? Skye touched the area lightly. The girl flinched but didn’t pull away.
“I know it hurts,” Skye whispered. “I’m sorry.”
The girl squeezed her eyes shut, bracing herself. Skye slid her finger behind the device again, feeling for the object. There. Small. Hard. Wedged deep. Her heart pounded. What if I make it worse? But then she looked at the girl’s face. The pain. The exhaustion. She’d been living with this for who knows how long. Skye had to try.
She hooked her fingernail carefully around the edge of the object. The girl’s breathing quickened. Skye paused. “You okay?” The girl nodded quickly. Keep going.
Skye pulled. Gently. Slowly. It didn’t move. She tried again. A little harder this time. The girl whimpered silently, her mouth opening in a voiceless cry. The man leaned forward.
“Maybe we should…”
“Almost.” Skye cut him off. “Almost.”
She adjusted her grip and pulled one more time. The object shifted. Just a little. But enough. The girl gasped, tears streaming down her face. Skye’s hands were shaking now.
“One more, I promise. One more.”
The girl grabbed Skye’s knee, holding on tight. Skye took a breath. Then pulled.
The object slid free. The girl’s body went limp, like a weight had been lifted off her. Skye fell backward, the object clutched in her hand. The man caught her before she hit the ground.
“You did it,” he breathed. “You actually did it.”..
