Chapter 2 - My Conditions
I did not sleep that night.
My private suite was down the hall from Richard’s bedroom, decorated like an expensive hotel room with cream walls, dark oak furniture, and windows overlooking the frozen shoreline.
I lay awake staring at the ceiling.
Every rational part of me said I should leave.
I had just escaped a marriage built on deception.
The last thing I needed was another household filled with lies.
At seven the next morning, however, I walked into Richard’s room carrying breakfast.
He was sitting beside the windows.
Ethan stood next to him.
“Morning.”
Ethan smiled at me.
Unlike Richard, he had the polished appearance of a man who wanted everyone to feel comfortable around him.
Perfect haircut.
Expensive navy suit.
Easy smile.
Nothing about him seemed threatening.
That made me more cautious.
“How did he sleep?”
I asked.
“Like a baby.”
Ethan answered for him.
Richard’s jaw tightened slightly.
I noticed.
Ethan probably did not.
“I was asking Richard.”
For half a second, Ethan’s smile faltered.
Richard turned toward me.
“Fine.”
Ethan checked his watch.
“I have meetings downtown.”
Then he bent toward his brother.
“Remember, Dr. Reynolds is coming at two.”
Richard nodded weakly.
Ethan left.
I waited until the door closed.
Then I placed the breakfast tray beside Richard.
“If I stay, I have conditions.”
Richard looked at me.
“You’ve decided to stay?”
“Temporarily.”
I sat across from him.
“But I’m not becoming part of whatever criminal war your family is involved in.”
A faint smile touched his mouth.
“That’s fair.”
“I’m serious.”
“So am I.”
“Second, if your condition becomes medically dangerous, I call a doctor I trust.”
Richard nodded.
“Third, you do not lie to me about anything related to your health.”
His expression shifted.
“That may be difficult.”
“Then find another caregiver.”
Richard studied me for several seconds.
Finally, he nodded.
“Agreed.”
“And fourth.”
I leaned closer.
“If I learn that you are using me to hurt an innocent person, I walk out immediately.”
For the first time, I saw something almost like respect in his eyes.
“You don’t scare easily.”
“I scare plenty.”
I thought about Michael.
“I just learned fear and obedience aren’t the same thing.”
Richard looked away.
That sentence seemed to affect him more than I expected.
After breakfast, I performed a complete mobility assessment.
I tested sensation in his feet.
Muscle resistance.
Hip movement.
Knee extension.
Ankle control.
Richard had far more function than anyone would have guessed.
His left side remained weak.
His right side was significantly stronger.
With support, he could partially lift his body from the wheelchair.
“How long have you been able to do this?”
“About six weeks.”
“And nobody noticed?”
“I practice at night.”
“Alone?”
“Yes.”
I stared at him.
“That is unbelievably reckless.”
“It was necessary.”
“You could fall.”
“I’ve fallen.”
I looked toward him sharply.
“How many times?”
He did not answer.
I pushed up the sleeve of his pajama shirt.
A fading bruise covered his upper arm.
“Richard.”
“I didn’t break anything.”
“That is not the standard.”
For the first time, he actually laughed.
It was quiet.
Brief.
But real.
“You sound like you’ve known me for years.”
“No.”
I adjusted his arm.
“I sound like someone who doesn’t want to explain to an emergency room why a fifty-year-old man tried secret midnight gymnastics beside his bed.”
His smile disappeared when we heard the door.
Eleanor Vance stood in the doorway.
Richard’s mother was seventy-four and elegant, with silver hair pinned neatly at the back of her head.
She stared at my hands supporting Richard’s knee.
Then she looked at his face.
“What are you doing?”
“Range-of-motion exercises.”
I answered calmly.
Eleanor stepped inside.
“My son cannot move his legs.”
The certainty in her voice disturbed me.
“His doctors still recommend passive movement.”
I said.
She continued watching us.
Then her eyes dropped to Richard’s right foot.
For one terrifying second, I thought she had noticed something.
Instead, she whispered.
“My poor boy.”
Richard’s face remained blank.
Eleanor kissed his forehead.
When she left, he waited several seconds.
Then he exhaled.
“She knows something.”
I looked toward the doorway.
“About the accident?”
“I don’t know.”
May you like
Richard stared after his mother.
“But she has been afraid of Ethan since the day I came home from the hospital.”
