When I finally freed her, Emma clung to me, her small body trembling. Between sobs, she told me what happened. The angry lady from next door came in our yard. She said my music was ugly noise. She said deaf people shouldn't try to sing. She took my ears away and put me in the cage for a timeout.
My blood turned to ice, then fire. I carried Emma inside, gave her water, and checked her for injuries. Her skin was hot to the touch. She was dehydrated and terrified.
With Emma safely inside, I marched next door and pounded on Patricia's door. Her husband opened it, looking confused.
"Where is she?" I demanded.
"Who?" he asked.
"Your wife. The woman who just locked my disabled daughter in a dog cage and left her to bake in the sun."
His face went white. "What are you talking about?"