Chapter 11: Chapter 11



The boy was dressed in a black T-shirt and pants, a stark contrast to the snowy white kitten that sat beside him. As soon as the door creaked open, the kitten leaped onto his shoulder with effortless grace. The boy, Josiah Walters, stopped smiling and looked towards the door with a frosty expression.

Using hand movements, he asked, “Who let you in?” Joelle instantly understood why they had asked if she knew sign language when she was hired as the violin teacher. Josiah was hearing impaired. Though Joelle had only learned a bit of sign language, she could clearly decipher the displeasure in his question.

It was also evident that Josiah despised eye contact, especially when it invited pity or surprise, as if others would think, “Oh, he’s disabled.” The maid quickly replied in sign language, “This is your violin teacher.” Josiah’s face darkened. Without warning, he grabbed a nearby trophy and hurled it towards the door.

“Ah!” The maid shrieked and fled the room in panic. The trophy, despite landing on the soft carpet, still hit Joelle’s right hand. Reflexively, she raised her arm to shield the maid from the attack. The impact worsened the old injury on her wrist, sending a bolt of pain so intense that her lips drained of color.

Despite the agony, she forced a smile, not wanting Josiah to feel any guilt. Her hand trembled as she asked in sign language, “Shall we start over and introduce ourselves?” Josiah stood motionless by the window, his face clouded with an impenetrable gloom. Joelle’s gaze fell on the trophy lying on the floor. The inscription read: Presented by the Animal Protection Society in recognition of Josiah Walters’ generous support.

Her mind drifted back to the gentle scene she had witnessed earlier—Josiah cradling a white kitten with such tenderness that it hinted at a deep love for animals. Perhaps in Josiah’s silent world, animals offered a kind of solace, one that didn’t rely on words or sound.

Summoning her courage, Joelle reached for the violin resting on the table. Josiah’s eyes narrowed, and he took a step forward as if to stop her, but it was too late. Joelle placed the violin against her shoulder, drawing the bow across the strings in a fleeting, playful note that echoed through the room.

gαℓησν𝒆𝓁s․com offers tales worth telling His expression remained unchanged, but his gesture was clear—he pointed towards the door, silently insisting that she leave. Undeterred, Joelle moved closer. “You can hear a little, can’t you? Then listen closely. What does this sound like?”

Josiah stared at her, puzzled. Although his right ear was entirely deaf and his left had only faint hearing, his other senses were sharp, almost compensating. He realized that Joelle wanted him to tune in to the sound of the violin—an instrument he once cherished above all else. The note Joelle played wasn’t part of any melody, just a brief, single sound.

Josiah’s eyes lit up, his face uncertain. Had he heard correctly? He gestured for Joelle to play it again. This time, a small smile tugged at the corner of his lips—Joelle had skillfully mimicked the lowing of a cow with the violin. The deep, resonant tone was more than mere noise; it was something Josiah felt, reverberating deep within him.

Noticing his keen interest, Joelle felt a wave of relief wash over her. Joelle’s teacher had once remarked that she possessed perfect pitch and an acute sensitivity to music. During the grueling hours of exam preparation, Joelle had entertained herself by learning to imitate various animal sounds with her violin—cows, birds like pigeons, cuckoos, and sparrows, as well as horses, wolves, pigs, and even the mechanical hum of car horns and motorcycle engines. She never thought that these random experiments would actually come in handy one day.

After her little demonstration, Josiah tugged at her sleeve, his eyes wide with excitement, signaling his desire to try. Joelle responded, “You’ll have to start with the basics. I’ll teach you everything in time.” Though slightly nervous, Josiah nodded eagerly.

Just as Joelle set down the bow, a sharp pain shot through her right wrist, forcing her to crouch and clutch it tightly. Josiah’s face twisted with worry, and he signed rapidly. “Hey! Are you okay?” Panic gripped him, fearing that the pain was his fault, a consequence of throwing the trophy earlier. “I’m sorry! I’ll get a doctor.”

“No!” Joelle quickly grabbed his arm. Once the pain subsided, she explained patiently, “It’s not your fault. My wrist was injured three years ago. The doctors said I might never play the violin the way I used to.”

Josiah stared at her, wide-eyed, but within that shock lay understanding. He could empathize with her. Like him, she refused to let go of something she loved, no matter the obstacles. In that, they were kindred spirits. Joelle must have chosen to become a violin teacher out of an unwavering passion, a refusal to surrender her dream.

The first lesson ended on a positive note. As Joelle left the villa, she bumped into someone familiar. It was Adrian’s friend and someone she had known since childhood—Rafael Romero. “Hi, Rafael.”

“What in the world brings you here?” Joelle saw no reason to hide the truth. After all, she was making an honest living.

“I’m teaching violin to a boy in this villa.”

Curiosity flickered in Rafael’s eyes, but he didn’t pry. “Are you teaching Josiah Walters?”

“How did you know?”

Rafael smiled. “He’s my cousin.” He gave Joelle a once-over and then teased, “Since you walked out unscathed, I’d say he must approve of you as his teacher.”

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