The Girl Who Spoke With Her Hands — The Secret of Ashcroft House
I was wearing polished brown shoes, bought with my own money, comfortable enough to last all day.
“Do you still have the old ones?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because they got me to a place where I needed to be.”
She looked thoughtful.
“You could have worn better shoes and still understood me.”
I smiled.