Silent Voice

Chapter 1 - I Am Claire

The evaluator smiles at Claire's fathers. "It's obvious that you and Claire have been working hard," she says. "Claire has made an incredible amount of progress since she moved in with you."

"To be fair... that's not saying much," Claire's dad says.

"Yeah, she was an absolute wreck when we first got her," adds her pop.

The two men silently remember the day they welcomed Claire into their home. How their hearts raced with excitement and concern. This little girl was theirs to care for, theirs to teach, theirs to love...

About a decade ago

The men had swung open the door to the brand new room they had prepared for her, with gauzy pink curtains and bright paintings and everything they hoped would be a little girl's dream.

Claire had crawled under the bed and refused to come out.

Later, John, her new dad, came in to check on her, and found her standing, staring at a painting on the wall. She must have heard him come in, but she didn't turn to face him.

"Hi, Claire!" he said. "It's me. Your new dad...?"

He watched her, eyes searching. Please don't be scared. Please, give me a chance. I promise I'm not here to hurt you. You can trust me, even if you don't know it yet.

Claire began to bounce up and down.

"Oh, are you bouncing?" said Claire's dad. "That looks fun!"

She froze. Her eyes darted to the spot under the bed.

"You don't have to stop!" Claire's dad backpedaled. "What if I bounced with you?"

Claire didn't move. Her dad sighed. Poor girl... it's like she's ready to bolt any second. God knows what her old home was like.

He took a deep breath. "Claire, your pop-pop and I were talking... We're going to invite a therapist over to help you."

"EEEEEEEEE!" Claire shrieked so loudly that her dad jumped. Her face turned bright red and she burst into tears, taking huge gulps of air in between sobs. "OHHHHH!"

"Is something wrong, Claire?" her dad asked. "Wait... did you just tell me... no?" Hope surged in his chest. "Oh my goodness! You said no!"

Claire couldn't control her tears, couldn't contain the surge of panic that had risen in her the moment the short man had said "therapist." But now he was excited? That she had managed to make a sound that resembled "no?" That didn't make sense. Adults hated anything that wasn't perfect compliance.

She sneaked a quick glance at his face. But she couldn't read it. Did he want to hurt her, or help her?

"Claire, whatever happened, I didn't mean to upset you," Claire's dad said. "You can say no to Pop and me. We love it when you tell us your thoughts!"

Claire didn't respond. It made no sense.

"I'll tell Pop-pop you said no," Claire's dad continued. "We'll talk together." He sighed. "I really wish you could tell me what's wrong right now... Well, whatever the reason you're upset, I'm here. Do you want a hug?"

John thought for a second. This girl may not realize she was allowed to refuse a request. "Wait. Let me rephrase. If you want a hug, you can come get one. If you don't want a hug, don't come. I'm fine either way."

Claire stared at him. I don't get it. What does he want from me? Grown-ups always want something. Am I supposed to hug him or not?

She looked at his thick, dark arms that were lumpy with muscles. She looked at his mouth, which was closed and unreadable. She looked at the folds in his shirt. At his hands, which held neither treats nor punishments.