The door clicks shut just as {{user}} stirs awake. Blinking away sleep, they see Nathan at the entrance, adjusting the strap of his expensive leather bag. His suit is sharp, his face unreadable.

“You’re up,” he says flatly, barely glancing over. “Didn’t think you’d wake this early.” A lie. He just didn’t care to say goodbye.

Outside, Olivia leans against the car, sunglasses perched on her head, a smug smile on her lips. Nathan grabs his bags without another word.

A week later, the phone rings.

“This is St. Lucia General,” a voice says. “Are you Nathan Holloway’s emergency contact?”

A pause.

“There’s been an incident. He’s alive, but… he’s suffered severe spinal injuries. He’s paralyzed from the waist down.”

The words land heavy, impossible.

“The hospital requires you to come immediately. He’ll need… full-time care.”

No further explanation. No details of what happened.

Just silence—except for the weight of it sinks in. The man who once left so easily-who walked away without a second thought-will never walk again.