The Right Sign Summary, Characters and Themes | Nia Arthurs

The Right Sign by Nia Arthurs is a contemporary romance that centers on Yaya, a confident Deaf fashion model, and Dare, a wealthy businessman who unexpectedly enters her world. The story challenges romantic conventions through themes of communication, identity, and vulnerability.

What makes this book stand out is its respectful portrayal of Deaf culture, emotional depth, and the evolving dynamic between two people from vastly different backgrounds. It’s a story about learning to trust, finding common ground without sacrificing selfhood, and falling in love with both the person and their world. This is not just a romance—it’s a story about choice, voice, and the right to be seen and heard on your own terms.

Summary

Yaya is a striking, self-assured Deaf fashion model who has a clear personal rule: she does not date hearing men. Her life is built on boundaries that protect her from past hurt and misunderstanding.

At a glamorous wedding, Yaya and her best friend Henry find themselves in the middle of an unexpected incident. Henry mistakenly believes that a car belongs to an ex-boyfriend of a friend and smashes the windshield.

The vehicle actually belongs to Dare Sullivan, a successful, wealthy businessman. To protect Henry, Yaya takes the blame.

Dare is fascinated, not just by the situation but by Yaya herself—especially her boldness, her beauty, and the fact that she is Deaf. Instead of pressing charges, Dare offers Yaya his business card.

Though skeptical, Yaya keeps the card. Their lives begin to intersect more often.

Dare takes a serious interest in her and makes genuine efforts to understand her world. He hires an ASL-trained driver and starts learning the language himself.

Yaya, having faced years of condescension or fetishization from hearing people, remains cautious. But Dare’s persistence and willingness to meet her halfway make it harder for her to maintain distance.

Dare’s personal life is complicated. His sister Lucy is struggling with alcoholism, and he has taken on a paternal role for her young daughter, Talia.

To reassure his family about his stability and commitment, Dare lies that Yaya is his girlfriend. When Yaya finds out, she’s initially furious.

But circumstances lead to an agreement between them: she will continue the charade in exchange for help with the damages caused by the windshield incident. What starts as a fake relationship slowly begins to take on real emotional weight.

As the story unfolds, Yaya meets Talia and bonds with her, revealing her nurturing side. Her interactions with Dare’s family and his world make her question whether there could be room for her in it.

Still, she wrestles with the idea that she might be seen as a temporary fix or an exotic novelty. Dare, on the other hand, starts to see Yaya as someone who grounds him emotionally—someone who understands silence in a way that brings peace.

Their relationship faces several challenges. Dare’s ex resurfaces, raising doubts in Yaya.

The difference in their worlds—both social and communicative—continues to strain their bond. A pivotal moment comes when Dare kisses Yaya and she pulls away, unsure if she can trust him or herself.

Both are carrying wounds: Yaya from a lifetime of being misunderstood, and Dare from bearing the emotional weight of his fractured family. Through the support of friends like Henry and moments of introspection, Yaya starts to confront her fear of vulnerability.

Dare remains steady in his pursuit, continuing to learn ASL and deepen his engagement with her community. When Dare finally makes a public declaration of his feelings at a family event, it’s not dramatic—it’s sincere.

He acknowledges her boundaries, her identity, and her worth. By the end, Yaya chooses to embrace the possibility of love, not by changing who she is, but by allowing herself to be seen and loved as she is.

The epilogue features a symbolic gesture: a literal and emotional contract of commitment between the two. Their relationship is no longer about proving anything to anyone—it’s about building a shared life, with mutual understanding and respect at its core.

Characters

Yaya

Yaya stands at the heart of the novel as a bold, self-assured deaf fashion model with a fiercely independent streak. Her life is shaped by her experiences with both societal and personal prejudices regarding her deafness, prompting her to set strict boundaries—like never dating hearing men—to protect herself from further heartbreak.

Despite this, Yaya is not closed off; she is deeply loyal to her friends and family. Her warmth shines through, especially in moments with Dare’s niece, Talia.

Yaya’s journey is one of vulnerability. Her defenses, though formidable, are rooted in a history of rejection and misunderstanding.

Throughout the novel, she wrestles with the desire for genuine connection and the fear that intimacy will inevitably lead to pain. Her evolution is marked by a gradual willingness to let her guard down, embrace trust, and accept love, not as a compromise of her identity but as an extension of it.

Yaya’s courage is not just in her resilience but in her eventual choice to be emotionally honest. She claims space both in the hearing world and in her own heart.

Richard “Dare” Sullivan

Dare, the wealthy and enigmatic businessman, enters the story as someone accustomed to getting what he wants. Yet he is far from the shallow stereotype of the privileged elite.

Beneath his confident and polished exterior lies a man burdened by family responsibility and past emotional wounds. Dare’s initial attraction to Yaya is sparked by her unapologetic sense of self and her unique perspective, but his interest quickly deepens into genuine care.

He demonstrates rare humility and persistence, taking active steps to bridge the gap between his world and Yaya’s. Dare learns ASL, hires interpreters, and seeks to understand the nuances of Deaf culture.

His struggle revolves around vulnerability. Dare is used to being the pillar for his troubled family, particularly for his sister Lucy and niece Talia, often at the expense of his own emotional needs.

His journey with Yaya forces him to confront his own fears of abandonment and the desire for unconditional acceptance. By the novel’s end, Dare grows into a man willing to risk his heart and actively fight for a love that challenges and transforms him.

Henry

Henry is Yaya’s best friend and steadfast ally, representing the deep bonds within the Deaf community. His role goes beyond comic relief or supportive sidekick; Henry is a vital source of emotional wisdom and honesty for Yaya.

Loyal to a fault, Henry’s impulsive actions—such as smashing the wrong windshield—reveal both his protective instincts and his sometimes reckless devotion. However, he also serves as Yaya’s conscience, encouraging her not to run from love or hide behind her defenses.

Henry embodies the importance of chosen family. He provides both humor and hard truths as Yaya navigates her complicated relationship with Dare.

Through Henry, the novel illustrates the value of supportive friendships that challenge, uplift, and anchor us.

Lucy

Lucy, Dare’s sister, is a complex character whose struggles with addiction and parenthood cast a long shadow over Dare’s life. She is depicted not as a villain but as a woman grappling with her own demons, often at the expense of her relationship with her daughter Talia.

Lucy’s presence in the story underscores themes of family dysfunction, forgiveness, and the cyclical nature of trauma. While her actions cause pain and disruption, there is a sense of tragedy in her character—her failures are as much a result of her vulnerability as her flaws.

Lucy’s journey is not one of redemption within the novel’s timeline. Her dynamic with Dare highlights the cost of being the ‘responsible one’ in a fractured family.

Talia

Talia, Dare’s young niece, serves as both a symbol of innocence and a catalyst for the central relationship. Her well-being is a motivating factor for both Dare and, eventually, Yaya.

Through Talia, the novel explores the impact of family instability on children, as well as the healing power of acceptance and attention. Yaya’s gentle connection with Talia reveals her nurturing side and offers glimpses of the family that could be.

Talia’s presence helps soften Dare and draws Yaya further into his world. She provides emotional stakes that heighten the narrative’s tension and resolution.

Themes

Communication Beyond Words

One of the most profound themes in The Right Sign is the exploration of communication in its varied forms, particularly in the context of the Deaf experience. The novel presents American Sign Language (ASL) not merely as a tool for linguistic exchange, but as a vehicle for emotional intimacy, personal autonomy, and mutual understanding.

Through Yaya, a fiercely independent Deaf woman, the story challenges mainstream notions of communication as exclusively auditory or verbal. Her interactions with Dare initially highlight the disconnect that often arises when people from different worlds meet, especially when one party lacks the tools—or the willingness—to engage on equal terms.

However, what begins as a frustrating language barrier gradually transforms into an opportunity for Dare to demonstrate his sincerity. By taking the initiative to learn ASL, hiring ASL-proficient staff, and adjusting his environment to accommodate Yaya, Dare illustrates that true communication stems from effort and empathy rather than shared speech alone.

These choices shift the power dynamic from one of pity or charity to mutual respect. The theme is most powerfully underscored in the epilogue, where the symbolic “Sign Here” moment encapsulates how far their communication has evolved—not just as a couple, but as individuals who have bridged cultural and emotional divides through intentional understanding.

Identity and Self-Worth

Yaya’s journey throughout The Right Sign is deeply intertwined with questions of self-worth and identity, particularly as they relate to her Deafness. From the outset, she sets boundaries around her identity, firmly resolved not to date hearing men due to past experiences of rejection, fetishization, and condescension.

Her rule is not borne out of prejudice but of preservation, a way to shield her self-respect in a world that often marginalizes Deaf individuals. This personal ethos frames much of her emotional conflict as she navigates her evolving relationship with Dare.

The tension between maintaining her autonomy and allowing herself to be vulnerable becomes central to her character arc. Her fear that she might become a novelty or charity case in Dare’s affluent, hearing-dominated world is a recurring anxiety, made worse by past scars and societal microaggressions.

However, the story ultimately affirms Yaya’s identity by refusing to make her transformation contingent on assimilation. She does not abandon her values or mute her Deafness to fit into Dare’s life; rather, it is Dare who changes, adapting to her world and validating her lived experience.

The result is a powerful statement on how love should never require the erasure of one’s identity. Self-worth is found not in others’ acceptance but in one’s refusal to compromise authenticity.

Vulnerability and Emotional Healing

Emotional vulnerability is another significant theme that threads through both main characters’ arcs in The Right Sign. Yaya and Dare are portrayed as individuals who carry different kinds of wounds: hers rooted in exclusion and romantic disappointment, his in familial dysfunction and emotional detachment.

Their relationship becomes a slow and often painful process of dismantling protective barriers. For Yaya, vulnerability means risking being misunderstood or treated as lesser.

For Dare, it means confronting a lifetime of suppressing emotional needs to play the role of a caretaker, especially in the context of his sister’s instability and his role as a surrogate parent to his niece. Their fake relationship sets the stage for this emotional unmasking, as it forces them to navigate intimate situations under the guise of pretense.

But the act soon loses its falsity, exposing real feelings that neither are equipped to deal with initially. Their arguments, moments of rejection, and hesitant reconciliations reflect the raw, uneven terrain of emotional healing.

What makes this theme especially resonant is the way it treats healing as non-linear. There are setbacks, regressions, and miscommunications.

Yet, each instance becomes a stepping stone toward a more honest and grounded connection. Love, at its healthiest, creates the safety to be seen in full, flaws and all.

Bridging Social and Cultural Divides

The Right Sign consistently emphasizes the challenges and rewards of crossing social, economic, and cultural divides. Yaya and Dare come from vastly different worlds—not only in terms of hearing versus Deaf, but also regarding wealth, social privilege, and familial structures.

These differences aren’t just surface-level; they represent deeper assumptions about values, success, and interpersonal connection. Yaya, coming from a close-knit and protective family unit, is wary of Dare’s material wealth and the superficiality it might conceal.

Meanwhile, Dare’s lifestyle is shaped by opulence and responsibility, but often lacks the emotional grounding that Yaya’s world offers. The relationship forces both characters to confront their prejudices.

Yaya must acknowledge that wealth doesn’t automatically preclude sincerity. Dare must unlearn the subtle privileges he takes for granted, especially in how society interacts with Deaf individuals.

The theme is not just about romantic integration but social reconciliation. Love can be a powerful force in disrupting entrenched systems of division—if both parties are willing to meet each other halfway.

Dare’s genuine efforts to engage with the Deaf community, coupled with Yaya’s gradual willingness to let someone from outside her world in, underscore that meaningful connection can happen across any divide when built on mutual effort and respect.

Love as Commitment, Not Convenience

At its core, The Right Sign is a romance, but it distinguishes itself by portraying love as a series of choices rather than a magical force. The characters don’t simply fall into each other’s arms; they work, struggle, learn, and, most importantly, commit.

This theme is reflected most powerfully in the “Sign Here” epilogue, which reframes the romantic declaration as an act of intention and agency. From the fake relationship’s transactional origins to their eventual emotional reconciliation, the story resists the temptation to depict love as something effortless.

Instead, it highlights the messiness, the misunderstandings, and the moments of doubt that define real relationships. For Yaya and Dare, love becomes a conscious commitment to growth.

They learn each other’s languages, show up even when it’s hard, and choose forgiveness over pride. Their story affirms that lasting love is not about grand gestures or perfect compatibility but about consistency, communication, and respect.

By the end, their romance becomes a model not of fairytale idealism but of adult realism. Love means doing the work every day to build something enduring.

The theme is especially poignant because it mirrors the emotional labor many real-world couples must undertake, especially when navigating differences in identity, ability, or background.