You'll Be Alright - Taylor Swift

Part 3

Taylor's POV

"Cancel the show," I finally mumble out.

People have been slowly slipping into the room, and I know enough people are here that they can get what I am saying done.

"Taylor, you are due on stage in an hour. The place is already filling up. You can't cancel. People will go insane. You have never cancelled a show before," Tree speaks up, which I was expecting.

I just simply don't care what she has to say.

"Cancel it, or I will," I breathe out, not taking my eyes away from Ryan, who has backed herself into the corner of my dressing room, now curled up into a tight ball, still hiding her whole appearance from everyone. She looked even smaller than before, curled into a ball like that, and honestly, the sight was ripping my heart out.

She had made a slight step towards me earlier, and I could have sworn she was about to look up at me, but my Dad had come rushing into the room and scared her half to death, the door slamming against the wall and sending shockwaves through the room due to his rushing.

She has been in the corner of the room since.

I have been sitting about three feet away from her since then while everyone else seems to be whispering behind me, Mom filling each and every person in on what has happened. Not that there were that many people to tell.

From what I have gathered, Dad is here now, as well as Tree and Greg, and maybe Austin; I'm not too sure if anyone has gotten him, but I know he was supposed to be coming to tonight's show.

"Taylor, we have no way to know if what this letter says is true. There is a good chance this is all some big hoax. You can't get your hopes up or cancel a show over this. You have no idea who this child is," Tree tries again, but honestly, she might as well be speaking Mandarin right now because I'm not processing a single word she is saying.

All I can do is look at Ryan.

Ignoring everyone else, I slowly shuffle forward, not wanting to scare the clearly terrified child any more than she already is.

I keep moving until I am right in front of her, keeping my hands on the floor in front of me so that she can see them, thinking it might help her relax a little. "Hi, Ryan, my name is Taylor," I whisper, trying to keep everything as soft and gentle as possible. However, yet again, she doesn't react at all to my voice.

In fact, now that I think about it, she seems to react to absolutely everything apart from sounds.

"Hey Ryan, can you hear me? Do you think you could just nod or something to let me know you can hear? You don't have to look at me or say anything. I just want to know if you can hear. Maybe you could move your hand or tap your knee. I just need to figure out if you can understand me. I know this is scary, but this is really important. Do you think you could try that for me, please?" I ask, speaking loudly and clearly this time.

At my words, the muttering behind me stops, and I just know everyone is now staring at me and Ryan as they wait for a response.

A response that doesn't come. She didn't react at all, as if she hadn't heard anything I just said, which is looking like a real possibility.

"Could one of you go to get Amelia for me, please?" I ask, not turning to face anyone as I ask for the tour doctor.

My heart broke at the thought that she couldn't hear anything. I know my daughter could hear. She had all her tests and checks before she was taken, and she had a clean bill of health. She was perfect.

So, if Ryan can't hear, it means one of two things. Either she isn't my daughter, or something happened to her that has caused her not to be able to hear.