Deceiving Her Ears: Ignoring Your Call-Chapter 72: Did She Remember Something?

"Ring!"

But the sudden ring of the phone shattered the intimacy of the moment.

Isaac saw who was calling, and a shadow passed through his eyes.

His long fingers brushed Natalie’s face as he got up and left to answer the call.

When he returned after the call, he saw Natalie sitting on the bed, her gaze clear once again.

He walked over and leaned in, wanting to kiss her again.

But she turned her head away to avoid him.

"Isaac, why exactly are you keeping me locked up here?"

After calming down,

She couldn’t ignore the fact he’d imprisoned her just because he handled Granny Peterson’s funeral arrangements.

"I still have to go to school."

"You’ve been granted a leave of absence—no need to worry."

Natalie’s eyes snapped wide open, full of disbelief.

Was that even something a human would say?

"Sorry, Little Ear, but for now you have to stay here."

Isaac sighed, sat next to her, held her, his face buried in her neck. "I promise, once I can, I’ll never keep you locked up again, okay?"

Of course not okay.

Natalie’s eyes were cold as ice.

But she didn’t say anything more about leaving.

Anyway, from his tone, saying it wouldn’t make a difference—he wouldn’t let her go.

So she’d have to think of her own way out.

——

Isaac arrived at the branch company early in the morning. Charles Peterson was waiting for him downstairs.

"Vice President Vaughn, not sure if you’ve had breakfast, so I grabbed something for you just in case."

"I’ve eaten."

Isaac strode inside on long legs.

Charles hurried after him with the bag of buns and soy milk.

He was specifically assigned as Isaac’s assistant, to help manage all affairs at the branch.

The office was a temporary arrangement and pretty basic.

Isaac took a seat, eyeing Charles still holding the breakfast bag.

"Did you eat yet?"

"Not yet," Charles replied instinctively.

"Then go ahead and eat." Isaac nodded towards the things in his hands. "Don’t waste them."

Charles looked flattered as if he’d won the lottery.

Isaac told him to eat outside and come back to report after.

He casually flipped open a file on the desk; his phone rang.

"Isaac, how’s it going? Getting used to the place? I’m bored to death without you around. When are you coming back?"

Franklin Finch sighed dramatically on the other end.

Isaac shut the file and grabbed another to leaf through.

"I’ve only been here a day."

"You know what they say—one day apart feels like three years. By the way, about Natalie’s situation—the Beckett family got all the news online wiped, and withdrew all the people they’d sent out. Looks like they aren’t planning to keep searching."

Franklin paused, seemingly waiting to gauge Isaac’s reaction.

Getting no reply, he probed, "Want me to send someone to look for—"

"No need."

Franklin was cut off before he could finish his suggestion.

"She’s with me."

"What?!"

A moment ago Franklin wondered if Isaac was being cold, then next came this bombshell.

"You’re saying Natalie’s with you? In Rhovan?"

"Yeah."

"Damn! What happened here? Wasn’t she in trouble back in Janton? How did she end up in Rhovan? Did you bring her over? When did you find her?"

Franklin’s questions tumbled out. Isaac couldn’t be bothered explaining and just told him to leave it alone.

Charles came back after finishing breakfast outside.

Isaac asked, "Do you know which hospital President Whitman is staying at?"

Frederick Whitman was the general manager of the branch.

He hadn’t seen him yesterday.

He’d heard the man was ill and hospitalized.

Charles made a surprised sound, his expression a bit odd.

Isaac pretended not to notice, stood up, and headed out.

Charles halted, then hurried to catch up.

"Vice President Vaughn, where are we going?"

"Hospital. Paying a visit."

*

They stopped at a flower shop near the hospital entrance. Isaac tossed the bouquet to Charles and strode in alone.

Charles caught up, rambling, "Vice President Vaughn, shouldn’t we call President Whitman ahead of time? Give him a heads up at least."

"A heads up? What for? It’s just a hospital visit."

"..."

Soon they arrived at the door of the hospital room.

Before they could enter, a woman’s flirtatious laughter erupted from inside.

"Oh, you’re naughty! Even sick you’re up to no good."

"You still don’t know if I’m sick or not? Come here, you little minx! Yes, yes, I’m sick—guess that makes you my doctor."

Isaac stood motionless at the door, a sneering smile creeping onto his lips.

Behind him, Charles was drenched in sweat.

A minute later, the sounds from inside got even more indecent.

Isaac’s face darkened. He spun and left without a word.

Charles looked down at the flowers in his hands—no chance to deliver, so he just hugged them closer and chased after Isaac.

They left the hospital.

Got into the car.

Isaac lit a cigarette, took a couple drags.

Charles stashed the flowers in the trunk, got in the driver’s seat.

"Vice... Vice President Vaughn?"

"You knew Frederick Whitman was faking illness, didn’t you?"

"Uh..."

Isaac blew out a smoke ring, half-laughing, half-cold. "Fine. Drive. Let’s head back."

No matter how deep this mess ran, now that he was here, he’d handle whatever came his way.

He was curious to see just what Frederick Whitman was playing at.

——

After work he went home.

The housekeeper said Natalie hadn’t come down for lunch.

Isaac went upstairs, pushed open the door, and saw her sitting on the small sofa under the window reading.

He walked over, knelt in front of her.

"Why didn’t you eat?"

Natalie didn’t even lift an eyelid, treating him like air.

Isaac pulled the book out of her hands, purposely speaking in a low, forceful voice:

"Downstairs. Let’s eat."

Natalie finally looked up, her face as cold as ice.

"You can throw a tantrum, but you can’t skip meals."

"Hunger strikes are stupid. You’re smart—you wouldn’t do something so foolish and self-harming, right?"

Natalie found him unbearably annoying, stared at him with indifference, then reached up and took off her hearing aid.

This move made Isaac almost laugh from irritation.

Natalie was using this as an act of rebellion.

If you don’t hear it, it doesn’t exist, right?

She figured this would leave him helpless, but—

Their eyes met.

In the next second, Natalie’s eyes widened in disbelief.

Because even without her hearing aid, she still "heard" Isaac talking to her.

No.

More precisely, she saw it.

Isaac was talking to her...in sign language.

She couldn’t even describe the shock in her heart.

She didn’t notice when Isaac gently reclaimed her hearing aid and fit it back on her ear.

"You... how do you know sign language?"

She heard her own voice, raspy and shaken.

"Take a guess."

"Is it...someone in your family is like me?" Natalie blurted out.

She froze, surprised by her own sudden thought.

Isaac looked at her, stunned, his heart clenching suddenly.

Had she remembered something?

After a moment, he explained:

"I have a little niece. She’s deaf-mute, so I learned sign language."

Isaac took her hand, squeezed her fingertips, "Her name’s Kiki, she’s a sweet little girl. I’ll introduce you one day—you’ll like her."

A long while later, Natalie finally let out a soft "mm."

Seeing her soften, even a little,

Isaac didn’t miss the chance and led her downstairs to eat.

——

The next day he had work at the company.

Just as he was eating breakfast, a commotion burst outside.

"Do you know who I am? Let me in, now!"

"Still blocking me? If you keep blocking me I won’t be polite!"

The big gate opened.

Isaac watched coldly as someone was stopped outside the front yard.