Allison

"What is it about?" My mom asked Sally while I watched like a terrified child who had been caught stealing from their strict father's wallet.

My mother's sign language skills were limited, which made her rely heavily on Sally to interpret and understand her. As a result, she tended to speak more often, hoping Sally would be able to decipher her words and respond accordingly.

Sally began to sign again, but I quickly intervened, walking up to her and holding her hand to stop her. "It's nothing, Mom," I said, forcing a smile. "We were just discussing girls' stuff. You don't need to know."

Mom raised an eyebrow, clearly...