Chapter 9 - THE NIGHT DOMINIC LEARNED TO SIGN
Dominic Vale arrived at his first sign language lesson wearing a three-thousand-dollar suit.
The instructor, Rebecca, wore jeans and a blue sweater.
She greeted him politely.
Then asked why he wanted to learn.
Dominic hesitated.
“My son is deaf.”
Rebecca nodded.
“And?”
He frowned.
“And I need to communicate with him.”
“That's a good reason. What do you already know?”
Dominic looked embarrassed.
“Nothing.”
Rebecca considered him.
“Then we'll start there.”
For the next hour, Chicago's most feared mafia boss struggled to form basic signs.
Hello.
Thank you.
Sorry.
He kept moving his hands incorrectly.
He forgot vocabulary.
He became frustrated when Rebecca corrected him.
Finally, he slammed his palms against his knees.
“Why is this so difficult?”
Rebecca looked at him calmly.
“Because you're learning a language. It takes time.”
Dominic exhaled.
“Caleb makes it look easy.”
“He's fluent.”
The words struck him.
His son was fluent.
Educated.
Talented.
Capable of communicating complex thoughts.
Dominic had spent fourteen years refusing to see it.
He looked down at his hands.
“Do you think he'll forgive me?”
Rebecca paused.
“I'm teaching you ASL, Mr. Vale. Forgiveness isn't something I can promise.”
He nodded.
Then lifted his hands again.
“Show me how to say sorry.”
Caleb learned about the lessons through Vivienne.
His reaction surprised me.
He laughed.
My father learning ASL?
I nodded.
Apparently.
Caleb shook his head.
He won't last.
Maybe not.
He looked at me.
You think he can change?
I considered the question.
I think people can choose different behavior. Whether they continue choosing it is what matters.
Caleb sat quietly.
Then signed:
When I was little, he used to teach me to fish.
I smiled.
Did you like it?
I liked being with him.
His expression softened.
Before the explosion, he wasn't always cruel. He was busy, but sometimes he was kind.
I looked at him.
Do you miss that father?
Caleb nodded.
Every day.
I reached for his hand.
And for the first time, I understood that his silence toward Dominic wasn't only anger.
It was grief for a relationship that had never recovered.
Meanwhile, the investigation uncovered a crucial witness.
A retired maintenance worker named Samuel Pierce had serviced the lake house days before the explosion.
He remembered Frank D'Angelo ordering several unauthorized modifications to the building's security system.
Samuel had objected.
Frank told him the instructions came from Dominic.
Samuel had kept copies of his work orders.
For fourteen years, he had been afraid to speak.
Now, with legal assistance and protective measures, he agreed to give a formal statement.
The records did not yet establish every detail of the explosion.
But they independently supported Caleb's account that the exits had been altered.
Dominic received the news from Adrian.
He sat alone in his office afterward, staring at Margaret's photograph.
For years, he had blamed the explosion on faulty infrastructure.
Then fate.
Then a cruel accident.
He had never allowed himself to imagine that someone in his own organization arranged the conditions that killed her.
His phone vibrated.
A message from Caleb.
Dominic stared.
It was the first direct message from his son in years.
I know you're taking lessons.
Dominic's hands shook.
He typed:
Yes.
A pause.
Then:
Why now?
Dominic stared at the screen for nearly a minute.
Finally, he replied:
Because I should have fourteen years ago.
Caleb didn't answer.
May you like
But he didn't block the number.
And for Dominic, that was more than he deserved.
