I had heard everything he said to the police that night. Every single word.
“Alger, what am I to you?” My voice was hoarse, but my anger was razor-sharp. “I had a fever, and you didn’t care. You even told the police not to send me to the hospital. So what’s with this fake concern now?”
For a brief second, guilt flashed across his face. But just as quickly, it was gone. He put on his caring act again and kept rambling about how he’d take care of me for the rest of my life, even if I was disabled.
His words made no sense—until I felt it. A searing pain in my lower body.
I threw off the blanket and froze. Where were my legs?
Frantic, I tore the sheets away again and again, but each time, all I saw was emptiness.
“You were in a car accident,” Alger explained. “The doctors said it was a miracle they could save you. You survived—that’s what matters. Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you when you’re discharged.”
His voice droned on, but I couldn’t hear him anymore. My hands trembled as I touched my lower body as if trying to prove that this wasn’t real.
No feeling. No sensation. Nothing.
I slammed my fists against my thighs—still, no pain.
This wasn’t happening.
Seeing my breakdown, Alger rushed forward and pulled me into his arms, telling me to calm down.
But his touch only made me want to vomit. I lifted my head and stared at him, my vision blurred with tears.
This was his fault. All of it! If he hadn’t framed me, none of this would have happened. I wouldn’t be here. I wouldn’t have lost my legs.
Rage surged through me. I grabbed his arm and sank my teeth into it.
He screamed, trying to pull away, but I held on, biting down harder. I wanted him to feel even a fraction of the pain I was in.
Soon, warm blood trickled down my lips, the taste metallic and bitter.
Just then, the door burst open, and officers rushed in and forced us apart.
Alger cradled his bleeding arm and glared at me. “I tried to comfort you, and this is how you repay me? You just committed assault—right in front of the police!”
The officer next to him rolled his eyes and shoved him toward the door. “That’s enough. Get out.”
As soon as he was gone, silence filled the room.
The metallic taste of blood made me nauseous. I reached for the glass of water on the table, but without my legs, I couldn’t push myself up.
I tried again. And again. But each attempt ended in failure.