Chapter 8 - THE FIRST STEP
“Just business,” Massimo said.
Dean leaned against the doorway. “You used to tell me everything.”
“I used to walk too.”
Dean’s eyes narrowed.
By noon, his legs burned.
By evening, they shook.
Pain crawled from his thighs to his ankles like fire under the skin.
He welcomed every second of it.
“Again,” he told Marco.
Marco stood in front of him while Massimo gripped the parallel bars in the basement gym.
“Your blood pressure is too high.”
“Again.”
“You’re going to crack your head open.”
“Then catch me.”
Massimo pushed.
His arms did most of the work. His right leg trembled. His left knee folded.
He dropped hard into the harness.
“Damn it!”
A little voice came from the doorway.
“Bad word.”
Nina stood there holding the pink basin.
Carla appeared behind her, horrified. “Nina, I told you to stay upstairs.”
Massimo hung in the harness, sweaty and furious. “She’s right. Bad word.”
Nina walked over and touched his knee. “It’s awake.”
“It’s rude.”
“Tell it please.”
Marco coughed to hide a laugh.
Massimo glared at him, then looked down at his leg.
“Please,” he muttered.
He pushed again.
The right foot planted.
His knee locked.
For one unbelievable second, Massimo Rinaldi stood.
Not balanced. Not strong. But upright.
Carla covered her mouth.
Nina screamed with joy.
Then Massimo collapsed back into the chair, laughing and breathing like a man who had outrun death.
“Again,” he said.
Carla shook her head. “Tomorrow.”
“Again.”
But Marco was staring at the security panel.
“What?” Massimo asked.
“The basement camera just came online.”
“It was off.”
“I know.”
On the small monitor, a red light blinked.
May you like
Someone upstairs had remotely activated the feed.
Someone had just watched Massimo stand.
