Chapter 1 - THE FOOT THAT MOVED
The first time Luca’s foot moved, his wife looked terrified.
Not relieved.
Not grateful.
Terrified.
Maya saw it from the bedroom doorway, a clean towel hanging from her hand.
For twelve years, Luca Moretti had lived in a wheelchair.
Doctors had told him the damage from his car accident was permanent.
His wife repeated that verdict whenever he asked about another specialist.
“Some things can’t be fixed, sweetheart.”
But three nights earlier, Vivienne had missed his evening injection.
And Luca’s right foot had moved.
Now Vivienne stood beside his chair with another loaded syringe.
Maya dropped the towel.
“Wait.”
Vivienne didn’t look up.
“You can change the sheets after his treatment.”
“I said wait.”
The needle hovered above Luca’s arm.
He looked between them, his dark eyes dull with the exhaustion that followed him everywhere.
“What’s wrong?”
Maya stepped closer.
“What happens when she skips a dose?”
Vivienne gave a small, polished laugh.
“Excuse me?”
“Three nights ago, you were at the hospital fundraiser.
You came home after midnight.
He didn’t get his shot.”
“Maya,” Luca said.
“Your foot moved.”
The room went quiet.
Outside, rain ticked against the tall windows.
Vivienne lowered her voice.
“You’re a care aide.
You’re not qualified to interpret a muscle spasm.”
“Then let his doctor explain it before you give him anything else.”
“His doctor prescribed it.”
“Then you won’t mind calling him.”
Vivienne’s smile vanished.
She reached for Luca’s arm.
Maya caught her wrist.
The movement was small.
The silence afterward wasn’t.
“Let go of my wife,” Luca said.
Maya released her immediately.
Then his heel scraped the floor.
All three of them looked down.
His right leg twitched.
Luca gripped the arms of his wheelchair.
“Maya.”
His voice had changed.
She moved in front of him.
“Don’t rush.
Let me help.”
He leaned forward.
His knees shook.
Maya braced him beneath one arm while he pushed through the chair.
For one impossible second, Luca Moretti stood.
His face folded with shock.
Then his legs buckled, and Maya helped him back into the seat.
He stared at his shoes.
“Twelve years.”
Vivienne took a step backward.
Maya looked toward the open doorway.
Nate, the guard assigned to the upstairs hall, stood there holding a black medical case.
An identical case lay open beside Vivienne.
Maya pointed.
“That’s where she gets them.”
Luca raised his head.
“Nate.
Put it down.”
The guard’s hand tightened around the handle.
Then Vivienne spoke.
May you like
“Nate, lock the door.”
And he did.
