Devan's POV
                  I sat at the kitchen table the next morning, staring at the wall, a cup of coffee in my hands. That particular wall had pictures of each of our kids. We had one of the pictures my mom had gotten of Hannah up there, and Emerson was now 25, so we had one of the pictures from her college graduation. She was, however, still living here. I sighed, thinking about what had happened last night with Andrew and Emerson. She'd been like that ever since Micaiah was about four, and she wouldn't listen to us about it anymore. Leah came in, gently placing her hand on my shoulders, and kissed my cheek.

     "Good morning." I smiled, returning the kiss.
     "Morning, baby. Sleep well?" She smiled, and nodded, getting her coffee, and she sat down across from me. I stared down at my cup for a minute, and then she gently smacked my arm.

      "Did you even hear me, Devan?" I looked up, startled.
      "Hmm?" She chuckled slightly, smiling and shaking her head.
     "You didn't even hear me. I asked you what was wrong." I took a deep breath, shaking my head.
      "Last night. Are we.....Are we being too defensive when it comes to Caiah? Because every time someone says something about her being deaf, we just jump in. Are we being too protective?" She looked down, and neither of us noticed Micaiah slipping into the kitchen, silently listening.

      "I've wondered that as well. And I think we might be. But it's hard, just watching people like Andrew saying these things right in front of us, and no one cares. And even the other kids, they say these things, and they don't care that they're hurting her." Then, Micaiah came into the room, taking a deep breath, and then she spoke up, her voice shaking.

      "Dad, I've wished my whole life that people could understand. No one ever does. No one ever cares, other than you, mom, uncle Collins, aunt Riley, and your parents. Emerson, Ethan, Spencer, Bella......And even Blake, Daniel, and Ciera.....They don't care. They don't want to listen. And go ahead, keep sticking up for me if you want. That just reaffirms what they already think. They think I'm too weak, that I'm....I'm retarded. I just....I don't care anymore." She turned, taking a deep breath, and went into the kitchen. I watched after her, my heart nearly shattering. I saw the pain in her eyes as she said that, and I knew she really did care. I stood, following her into the kitchen. She had a bowl, milk, Lucky Charms, and a spoon out on the counter.

      "Hey." I said, gently placing a hand on her shoulder. She stiffened slightly, and then turned to me. I saw tears trickling down her cheeks, and she looked up at me.

      "Why do things have to be like this for me? Why can't my life just be normal? Why am I deaf?" I pulled her close to me, and she started crying. She wrapped her arms around me, her shoulders shaking with sobs. Tears trickled down my cheeks, and I just held her close to me. Watching her grow up like this....It had killed me. I had asked myself that question so many times, and I desperately wanted to know why myself.

      "I don't know, baby. I just don't know. But you....You're still special. Your dancing, your art, the acting.....You've got your own version of special, of normal. And your mother and I.....We love you just the way you are. And it doesn't matter what other people say. Okay?" I whispered, and she nodded, smiling weakly, and looking back up at me. 

      "Okay." She let go, and finished getting her breakfast ready. We went back in together, and soon, Collins showed up, his camera with him, and we got ready to film the next video. But this time, it was Micaiah behind the camera instead of Leah or Riley. As we filmed, she handled the camera beautifully, as if she'd done this her whole life. I managed a weak smile, thinking about the last fifteen years we'd had with her. What she didn't have in terms of her hearing, she made up for with her other abilities. Later that night, Andrew came to me, slightly jumpy, and took a deep breath.

      "Do you need something?" I asked quietly, and he bit his lip slightly.
      "Sir, I was wondering.....I was wondering if you would give me your blessing to propose to Emerson." I inhaled slightly, raising an eyebrow, and nodded slowly.
       "I will. But you have to respect all of my children. Understood?" He nodded quickly.
      "Yes, sir. I understand. Thank you." He took off, and I let myself smile. He was a good kid. He just needed to work on respecting others, despite their differences.