“So you don’t spend your entire life carrying my ghost around.”
“If you can’t forgive me, I understand completely. I will love you either way, Hannah. I always have, even when I failed you terribly.”
Hannah sat with the letter for hours, her mind reeling.
Ray had been directly involved in the circumstances that ruined her life.
He had also been the only reason her life hadn’t collapsed entirely.
The next morning, Mrs. Patel sat beside Hannah with coffee.
“He couldn’t undo that terrible night,” the older woman said gently.
“So instead he changed diapers and built wheelchair ramps and fought with insurance companies in expensive suits.”
“He punished himself every single day. That doesn’t make everything right, but it’s the truth.”
A month later, after multiple meetings with lawyers and processing paperwork Hannah could barely understand, she enrolled in a specialized rehabilitation center an hour away.
Miguel, her assigned physical therapist, reviewed Hannah’s medical chart carefully.
“I’m not going to lie to you. This rehabilitation process is going to be incredibly rough.”
“I know,” Hannah said firmly.
“But someone worked really hard so I could have this opportunity. I’m not going to waste it.”
The therapists strapped Hannah into a supportive harness suspended over a specialized treadmill.
Her legs trembled beneath her from disuse and nerve damage.
“You doing okay?” Miguel asked with concern.
Hannah nodded, tears already forming in her eyes.
“I’m just doing something my uncle wanted me to do.”
The treadmill machine started slowly.
Hannah’s knees buckled immediately, but the harness caught her weight.
“Again,” Hannah said through gritted teeth.
They tried again and again.
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