Winter nights came early in New York. The river outside the Hudson Hotel was pitch-black, but the ballroom still blazed with light. Waiters pushed silver carts between the tables, their wheels rolling almost silently over the carpet.Gianna picked up the place card with her name on it and set it down in front of me."Sit here." She signed the words slowly, as if she were afraid I'd miss them, then smiled and repeated them aloud. "You'll be closer to Mom."I pushed the card back and caught her hand under the tablecloth."Together," I signed.She understood, and her eyes crinkled as she smiled. When my family found me two years ago, plenty of people expected us to fight for our place in the family. Gianna had been part of the family for 26 years, but she was the first to learn sign language so she could communicate with me.My mother, Sofia, slid a small plate over to me. It held a nut-free dessert. She didn't ask why I wasn't eating the prettier dessert everyone else had. My brother Nic
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