annah did not remember walking back to her apartment that morning. She only knew when she finally reached it. The door was still locked, and Daniel still lay asleep on the bed. Silently, Hannah began to pack her belongings into her suitcases. Then she piled them into the trunk of her car. One more thought occurred to her. It would not do to have her parents see the wild looking man asleep in the next room. She ran down the street and bought Daniel some new clothes. She made it a point to get him socks.

When she returned home a half hour later, Hannah looked inside the bedroom. Daniel lay flat on his back, his head turned towards the window. Hannah stood there for a moment and watched as he gazed out the window. It was true he could not hear sound, but his eyes seemed to listen for him. He could feel the quiet and stillness surrounding him.

Hannah stepped inside the room. Daniel caught her movement and looked up. She placed the new clothes on the foot of the bed, along with a razor.

"These are for you," she said hesitatingly. Daniel refused to look at her. She stepped into his eyesight once more. "We're going to leave here as soon as you get cleaned up, Daniel." He turned his eyes away, but not before he had read her lips. Not knowing this, Hannah left the room, closing the door behind her. She sat down on the sofa, her arms hugging her knees to stop them from trembling. Even though she felt it might be dangerous to stay, Hannah refused to leave without Daniel. He was still too weak. She prayed to God and pleaded for courage. She soon fell fast asleep, for the hard night had only added to her exhaustion.

In the bedroom, Daniel was feeling ashamed of himself-- a feeling that he often had. He hated pity, but it stung even more to have her feel sorry for him. Every time he looked into her eyes, he became acutely aware of his shame. Daniel closed his eyes and tried to remember his parents. His memory of them had dimmed over the years. When he was seven, his vivid memories of them were all he had left. Now that he was older, very few of them had survived. However, he could remember the grave look on his teacher's face when she told him that his parents had been in an accident. Daniel could remember the nurse carrying him away when the doctor had told him they died. A tear rolled down his cheek and disappeared into his long brown beard.

When Daniel was eight, the system failed to place him in a foster home. Therefore, he was left in the care of a state run institution. Maybe it was because he was deaf, or maybe, it was just because the system that had been placed there to educate him for a productive roll in society, was too bogged down by the sheer number of abandoned and abused children. When Daniel turned eighteen, he was discharged from the institution that had been his only refuge for ten years. Ever since, his home had been the streets. He looked at the pile of clothing Hannah had placed at the foot of the bed.

"She was always kind," Daniel thought to himself.

Hannah slept peacefully on the sofa, until someone tapped her on the arm. A handsome stranger stood towering over her. She quickly grabbed a lamp from off the stand beside the sofa.

"Who are you?" she shouted, brandishing the light fixture over her head. Daniel took a step back, surprised by her reaction. When their eyes met, he quickly looked away. "Daniel, is that you?" asked Hannah in disbelief. Since he had not looked at her to read her lips, the question went unanswered.