Page 27 of Miguel

He didn’t respond to her, though I hadn’t expected him to.

“So, what seems to be the problem?”

I took a deep breath and cut to the point. “Zeke’s teacher suspects he’s Deaf.”

She didn’t react with shock at my bluntness. She just gave me a sad smile and set her clipboard down. “Well, let’s get him looked over, shall we?” Then she got to work, guiding Zeke with gentle murmurs that he didn’t respond to, but obeyed anyway. She weighed him, took his height, and listened to his heart.

All the while, she asked me questions that I didn’t even know how to begin to fucking answer.

“Does he have allergies?”

“Not that I know of.”

“When was his last checkup?”

I gritted my teeth. “We took him to get his vaccines a few weeks ago. Other than that, I don’t know. When he was one?”

She gave me a look, though I wasn’t sure if it was judgemental or not.

“His mom left and didn’t have a lot of paperwork…”

She nodded as if she understood then looked inside his ears with her otoscope. I just waited in silence, anxiety clawing at my chest. It was a strange feeling, one I’d never experienced before. I always prided myself on being calm.

Level-headed Miguel.

But something visceral was gripping me now. Fear for Zeke.

She started asking me “standard” questions as she looked through his ears. Like his reactions to certain sounds, noises, his speech ability.

“He doesn’t talk,” I supplied. “At all.”

After a few more questions, she straightened. “His ears look fine, Señor Lopez.”

“Fine?” I echoed. “How the fuck do you think he’s fine, doc? He isn’t responding, doesn’t speak. He just sits there!”

I felt my temper rising, wanting to lash out at her for what I was perceiving to be incompetence. No. You know what, fuck perceiving. Shewasbeing incompetent.

“Señor Lopez, he’s a healthy child. I don’t know his situation, but if his mom left him, maybe he isn’t speaking because he’s upset. If that’s the case, I would suggest a psychologist.”

“A fucking–” I broke off with a scoff and a strained laugh. “What kind of a bullshit hospital is this? Surely there are other tests you can run. You didn’t do shit but look in his ears.”

Her gaze narrowed, though I could tell she was trying to appear calm. She probably dealt with people shouting at her every day, but so did I. I dealt with stubborn assholes. I’d talked down criminals while staring down the fucking barrel of a gun. If she thought I’d be leaving here today without actually looking Zeke over, she had another thing coming.

“Señor Lopez–”

“Are there more extensive tests that can be done?” I interrupted.

She blanched. “Yes, but…”

“Butwhat?”

“Your insurance isn’t up to date.”

I groaned. This was what she was worried about? Fucking insurance while Zeke was staring between us with confusion etched onto his features?

I had a job. The club had a lot of legit businesses. Strip clubs, mechanic shops, a diner… We needed something to fall back on and a place to launder our money. I worked at the mechanic shop with Ángel and Crank. The government gave free healthcare in public hospitals, something I’d never signed up for because I never thought I’d need anything else considering I didn’t have a Vieja or kids.

She wanted to bring up this shit now? And use it as an excuse to not look him over properly?

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