Chapter 6 - The Sound of the World
For several minutes, nobody moved.
Norah immediately removed the endoscopic equipment and applied a sterile antibiotic ointment and protective packing to Dominic’s ear canal, her hands working with practiced, flawless efficiency.
Dominic sat up slowly on the operating table, untying the surgical drape and tossing it aside. His face was pale, his breathing deep and controlled.
Wexler stood by the counter, clutching a towel, looking like a ghost. "The... the nerve decompression will take a few hours to stabilize," Wexler stammered nervously. "He won't hear immediately. The swelling has to—"
Shut up, Julian, Gio interrupted, grabbing Wexler by the collar of his scrubs and dragging him toward the recovery holding room. "You're done talking."
Norah stripped off her surgical gloves, tossing them into the biohazard bin, and turned back to Dominic. She reached out, hovering her hand near his shoulder, suddenly hesitant.
"How do you feel?" she signed, her heart hammering against her ribs.
Dominic didn't sign back immediately.
He closed his eyes.
For three years, his world had been an abyss of absolute, crushing silence. No wind through the trees. No sound of the waves crashing against the Oyster Bay shoreline. No footsteps, no heartbeats, no voices—nothing except the phantom ringing of an explosion that had stolen his brother and his life in a single second.
Slowly, the estate’s heavy central clock in the hallway began to chime.
Dong... Dong... Dong...
Dominic’s eyes snapped open.
A sharp, overwhelming wave of sound flooded his brain—the deep, rhythmic hum of the air filtration system, the faint scuffle of Gio’s boots outside the door, the steady, frantic beating of his own heart in his chest.
And then, he heard the soft, ragged intake of breath from the woman standing right in front of him.
Dominic raised his hand, touching his left ear, then lowered it slowly. He looked at Norah, his blue eyes shining with an emotion so raw, so profound, that it took her breath away.
He didn't use sign language.
His voice, unused and gravelly from years of silence, cracked slightly as the first words struggled past his lips.
"Norah..."
The sound of her name spoken aloud—deep, resonant, and entirely real—made a tear spill over Norah’s lashes.
May you like
Dominic stood up from the table, stepping closer to her, closing the distance that had kept them separated across years of tragedy and betrayal. He reached out, his warm fingers gently cupping her cheek, his thumb brushing away the moisture on her skin.
"I can hear you," Dominic whispered, his voice gaining strength with every syllable. "I can hear everything."
