The rain intensified as a black sedan arrived at the gates. Peter entered with a nervous notary whose briefcase rattled with legal documents. They moved upstairs without hesitation, as if they had rehearsed this scene many times in secret.
Peter stepped into the bedroom, grinning.
“Old friend,” he said, leaning over Gregory. “You always said trust was everything in business. Looks like you forgot to choose wisely.”
Gregory let out a weak sound, part of the performance.
“Peter,” he murmured. “I thought we were partners.”
Peter laughed. “Partnership ends where opportunity begins.”
Bianca stood beside him, placing the documents across Gregory’s chest.
“Sign,” she said, guiding a pen toward his hand. “Once you do, the pain ends.”
Gregory let his hand remain limp.
“I cannot hold it,” he whispered.
Bianca wrapped her fingers around his hand, forcing the pen between them, pushing toward the signature line. The notary watched nervously, knowing something about this scene felt wrong, yet blinded by the promised payment.
The door burst open.
Teresa stood there, eyes blazing.
“Stop,” she shouted. “You cannot do this. He is disabled. This is abuse.”
Peter turned, grabbed Teresa’s arm, and shoved her backward. She hit the floor, gasping, but immediately rose again, placing herself between the children who had followed her and the men in suits.
Bianca’s patience snapped.
“Security,” she yelled. “Remove them. All of them. Now.”
Two guards entered. They lifted Gregory from the bed with rough hands and dropped him into an old wheelchair stored in the corner. The twins cried as Teresa wrapped her arms around them.
Within minutes, the family was pushed out of the mansion. The iron gates closed behind them with a final clang that echoed through the storm.
Rain soaked Teresa’s hair and clothes. She grabbed the wheelchair handles and pushed forward through mud and gravel, slipping but never letting go. The children clung to her sides as she guided them toward the distant glow of a bus shelter.
By the time they reached it, Teresa was trembling. She knelt before Gregory and took his cold hands in hers.
“Sir,” she said softly. “I know you can move. I saw you shift your fingers yesterday when you thought no one watched. I understand why you stayed silent. I will protect you until the right moment comes.”
Gregory closed his eyes, a single tear mixing with the rain.