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They would send me a photo of them and their lost loved ones, and I would make a drawing of it. People kept reaching out, and now five years later it’s my full-time job. I love helping people. I love how my drawings help them find more peace.

Like it helps me with losing Micah. But sometimes I get so focused on my work that I lose my creative spark. Two years ago, Ash bought me a puzzle to help me relax. It’s been my remedy ever since. The only bad news is that I didn’t bring my puzzles with me. I still have them, but they are at Ash’s house since I didn’t have any space left in my suitcase, so now I’m standing in a toy store staring at dozens of different kinds of puzzles.

I grab one with a giant baseball field and tiny baseball players on it, snap a photo, and send it to Ash.

Alexis: Look what I got.

He responds a few minutes later when I’m standing at the self-checkout.

Ash: That looks amazing. Send me a pic when you’re done.

Alexis: I will. You ready for tonight?

Ash: Yeah, you gonna watch?

Alexis: Of course, I won’t miss it.

Ash is a professional baseball player. He’s been playing for as long as I remember.

We met when we were fifteen, and if he wasn’t at home or at school, he was on the field. He is the most hardworking person I have ever met. It was no surprise to me that he made Baseball his job. He was born for it. I watch as many games as I can.

He always gets me tickets for games nearby, but with games like tonight I’ll be cheering him on from home.

I pocket my phone, grab my bag containing my new puzzle, and exit the store, the warm heat blasts in my face. I walk further into town, ignoring the curious glances people shoot my way. I have made peace with my scar, but I still hate the attention it gets.

I had called the landlord earlier this morning, explaining to him what happened, and he assured me that all the keys that belong to my house have been returned, and there should be no more unpleasant surprises. I wanted to ask him why Carson had a key, but decided that’s something Carson might want to explain instead.

I’m minding my own business when I see a familiar face. Carson is standing in the crowded street dressed in a firefighter uniform. He and some other firefighters are standing around a young girl, who is crying and waving her hands in the air.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. We want to help,” Carson soothes, kneeling on the ground. The girl doesn’t respond, she just continues making movements with her hands when I notice the pattern. “Carson!” I haven’t seen him again since this morning when he mowed my lawn. I brought him coffee, then went inside to work, which proved to be difficult when you have a half-naked man working in your lawn. Carson waves, raising his eyebrows. I beckon him over. He eyes the guy next to him with a raised brow, then walks over to me.

“Hi Sunshine, I’m sorry I’m a little busy.”

“She’s deaf.” I’m fluent in sign language. I learned it when I turned eighteen. After I got my throat slit, I lost the ability to talk for a while. I was lucky enough to know how to write. Otherwise, no one would have understood me.

“That’s why she’s doing that with her hands. She’s trying to tell you something.” Carson’s mouth drops open.

“That explains why she’s not answering our questions.” He nods to himself, grinning slightly. “Thanks, Sunshine. I’ll call for a translator.”

He grabs his radio. “I can do it,” I interject quickly.

“You know sign language?” His voice is laced with surprise.

“I’m fluent. I can help if that’s allowed?”

“Yes, of course. That would help a lot.” He ushers me towards the young hysterical girl, his hand hovering over my lower back.

“She’s been crying ever since we came here. We need to know if she’s injured, but she won’t let us near her.”

I kneel in front of her, just waiting silently until I have her attention. She raises her head. I sign, my movements slow so she can understand it better.

‘Hi, my name is Alexis. Can you tell me your name?’

She smiles brightly, sitting upright, her hands moving slowly.

‘Sarah?’ I sign to be sure she nods. ‘Okay, Sarah, are you hurt anywhere?’

‘No, but I lost my mom.’