Chapter 6
At nine-thirty, Ethan drove off.
Lily claimed she had an appointment with her manicurist and rushed out the door in her heels.
The instant the house fell silent, I hurried upstairs, changed into an understated dark trench coat, grabbed my bag, and hailed a cab outside.
My first stop was the Audiology Center at Massachusetts General Hospital.
Inside the soundproof booth, beeps of varying frequencies chimed in my headphones.
Clutching the response button, I pressed down the instant each tone reached my ear.
Back in the consultation room, the specialist examined the new audiogram with an intrigued expression:
"This shows a noticeable improvement over your last test. However, a single result doesn't mean your hearing is fully stabilized yet, so we'll need follow-ups. What you hear in quiet versus noisy environments might still differ."
"Thank you, Doctor," I began, looking straight into his eyes with complete seriousness. "There is one request I must make."
"Throughout my ongoing care and recovery, none of my medical records, test results, or medication adjustments may be disclosed to anyone else."
"You previously authorized us to share your updates with your husband. You wish to revoke that arrangement, correct?" the doctor asked.
"Yes. Please send all future reports directly to me. Do not route them through him."
I wrote down my updated contact details and completed the paperwork as instructed by the staff.
By the time I left the hospital, it was nearly eleven.
I took another cab straight to Newbury Street.
Walking down the quiet alley to the studio's back door, I pressed the brass handle, finding it unlocked as expected.
I pushed inside, the bell above chiming softly.
There was only one person in the studio.
Nora stood at the cutting table holding a measuring tape, spinning around abruptly at the sound.
When she saw me, her face filled with relief, and she turned to pour some water, tossing a question over her shoulder: "Claire, is hot water okay?"
"That's fine."
The moment the words left my lips, the room plunged into dead silence.
Our eyes locked; the measuring tape slipped from her fingers with a thud, and her eyes welled up instantly.
"Claire? You... you can hear?"
Afraid to raise her voice, she instinctively kept it down, rushing forward to pull me into a fierce embrace.
Nerves that had been strung taut for twenty-four hours finally broke, prickling with a sudden rush of tears.
I hugged her tight, patting her back gently. "I can hear, Nora."
Leading her to the sofa in the corner, I recounted everything from the beginning.
The pressure behind the study door, the flirtation beneath the restaurant table, the late-night confrontation in the guest room, and Ethan's scheme to silence and exile me using "hearing loss and trauma-induced psychosis"—I laid it all out without holding back a single detail.