Chapter 8

"Yes," he said. "The cameras. In the kitchen. She changed the pills. I saw it with my own eyes."She didn't look surprised. She just nodded slowly. "My grandpa says when people do bad things for money, they always think no one is watching."He let out a slow breath. "I built this house. I installed those cameras. And still, I was the last person to see what was happening inside my own kitchen."She walked closer and looked at his legs. "Then we don't have much time," she said. "You have to get stronger before the wedding."He nodded. "The wedding is in three weeks."She thought for a moment, then said, "Then every day matters now."He rolled closer to the stone bench and placed his hands on it. "Yesterday, I did two steps," he said. "Today, we try more."He pushed himself up. His legs shook, but they held him. He stood there, breathing slowly, feeling the muscles working, feeling the effort, feeling something returning that he thought he had lost."Okay," she said softly. "One step."He moved his right foot forward."Another step."He moved his left foot forward."Again."This time, he managed three small steps while holding the bench. His legs were shaking badly now, and sweat formed on his forehead. But he was standing, moving, fighting.He sat down again, breathing hard. "She wanted me in this chair," he said quietly. "She planned it. The pills, the wedding, everything."The girl looked at him and said something very calmly: "Then you stand up at the wedding."He looked at her."You stand up in front of everyone," she continued. "And you show them you are not weak. And you show them what she did."He leaned back in the wheelchair and looked at the big house behind them, the tall windows reflecting the gray sky.

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