Chapter 68

Isaac longed to nod and agree with Verena, to promise her that he would try to let go of his fears.

Yet deep down, he knew such a promise was a lie he could never keep.

His worries were not idle fancies-they were storms that lived within him.

His life had veered off course in that single heartbeat of the car accident.

Even now, he could still see it clearly: his father lying in a pool of blood, that dreadful sight engraved in his mind like a scar carved in stone.

His father had shielded him, and before darkness swallowed him, lsaac heard the frantic cries of strangers.

"This young man's legs are bleeding heavily!" "If the ambulance doesn't come soon, he'll lose both legs!"

"Forget the legs-if he survives, it will be a miracle."

"How pitiful!"

The voices grew faint as lsaac sank into unconsciousness.

When his eyes opened again, an entire month had slipped away.

He woke beneath a stark white ceiling, the pungent sting of disinfectant filling his lungs, his dizzy head throbbing in protest.

His lips were parched, the corner of his mouth cracked and raw. He moistened them with his tongue, intending to rise from bed for a sip of water.

But as he threw aside the covers, a chilling realization struck-his legs refused to obey.

Frowning, he pushed himself up with his arms,summoning every ounce of upper body strength to move. The bandages around his head were blotched with blood, and sweat trickled down his jawline as his trembling arms bore the strain.

Still, his legs lay motionless, as though they had been erased from his body.

At that moment, Isaac sensed the cruel truth, though his heart refused to accept it.

Clutching the edge of the bed, he tried to roll off. But after lying still for a month, his body was too frail.He collapsed to the floor, knocking over the glass of water on the nightstand.

The glass shattered, and his palms pressed into the shards. Crimson spread across the pale floor in an instant.

The sight tore open an old wound-his father's bloodied face on that fateful day.

Isaac choked back a sob, not from the sting in his hands, but from the lifeless weight of his legs.

His face drained of color, sweat soaking his hospital gown.

The most terrifying part was this: all his strength had been spent simply getting out of bed, and now he could not move at all.

Blood streamed from his palms, yet his lower body lay unresponsive, a dead weight.

For the first time in his life, Isaac tasted the bitter truth of helplessness.

"Mr. Bennett!" The door flew open, and a young man in a caregiver's uniform froze in shock.

He quickly set down the basin of water he carried and rushed to lsaac's side.

Danica had hired him as Isaac's private caregiver. He had only stepped out for a moment, never imagining disaster would strike in those few minutes.

He pressed the call button and struggled to lift Isaac back onto the bed.

Moments later, a doctor strode in, followed by two nurses. "Mr.Bennett, you're finally awake," the doctor said with a relieved smile.

The nurses worked quietly, tending to his wounds and wrapping his hands in bandages.

Isaac leaned against the headboard, jaw clenched.

He closed his eyes halfway and asked in a hoarse voice, "Doctor, how long until my legs recover?"

"Well..." The doctor hesitated, regret darkening his face. At last, he sighed. "At present, it's unlikely they will recover."

Isaac's chest heaved, emotions surging like a storm.His eyes snapped open. "What did you say?"

The doctor lowered his head, his compassion plain.

Isaac stared blankly, unable to move, unable to breathe. At last he muttered, "I want surgery. Do the surgery...please, do it."

"Mr.Bennett, the surgery was performed a month ago. Your legs are in the best state they can be." "I want surgery! Do the surgery again!"

Deaf to reason, Isaac flung back the covers,attempting to rise.

"Hold him down! Quickly!" the doctor barked.

The two nurses and the caregiver pinned Isaac back to the bed.

"Isaac!" Danica burst into the room, breathless from rushing over. Seeing her son restrained, she turned to the doctor in alarm. "Dr. Loftus, what's happening?"

Alick Loftus pursed his lips, answering gravely, "Mr.Bennett has just woken up. He cannot accept his condition and is emotionally unstable. Please, Mrs.Bennett, talk to him."

Danica nodded, her voice soft but firm. "I understand. Thank you."

With her consent, the doctor signaled the others,and they quietly left the room.

Now only mother and son remained. "Isaac, you're finally awake."

Danica stepped forward, stroking his hollowed cheeks. Her nose reddened, tears brimming.

Isaac turned his bloodshot eyes toward her, his voice broken."Mom...I want surgery."

He was pleading like a child. Danica's heart twisted,but she forced herself to speak the truth. "Isaac, the doctors operated the day of your accident. But the nerves in your legs were too severely damaged...This is already the best they can be."

"No. My legs will recover. I want surgery. I want surgery." His words spilled out like a chant, as though repeating them could rewrite fate.

"Isaac, calm down first."

"My legs will get better. My legs will get better." He tried to get up again, his body trembling, his voice unrelenting. Danica reached to hold him back, but he pushed against her.

"My legs will get better. My legs will..." Smack! The sharp crack of a slap rang through the air.

Danica drew in a deep breath, raising her voice to break through his delusion.

"They will not recover. Dr. Loftus is the most trusted doctor in this field. The fact that your legs weren't amputated is already a blessing. You'll spend the rest of your life in a wheelchair."

Boom! Isaac's mind went blank, his heart collapsing into silence.

In that instant, he tasted despair as bitter as gall.

"And what about Dad?" The question slipped from his lips-the question he had feared since waking.

Danica's face faltered, grief and resentment flickering in her eyes.

At once, Isaac understood.

He sank back onto the bed, his gaze empty, staring at the ceiling as though carved from stone.

The room fell still, silence weighing heavier than words.

Danica's heart trembled at the hollow look in his eyes. Panic clawed at her-had her words broken him completely?

Regret surged through her chest. She softened her tone, whispering, "Isaac, if the doctors here can't help, we'll seek treatment abroad. There may still be hope."

Isaac shut his eyes, retreating from memories too heavy to bear.

For six long months, the greatest doctors had failed him.

Each time, he clung to the hope of a miracle, only to have it shatter in his hands.

He dreaded the thought of Verena in aother man's arms, yet he lacked the courage to gamble on chance.

She had told him she was seventy percent certain of success.

But what of the other thirty percent-failure, ruin,despair?

She had healed two others with similar impotence,yet unlike them, lsaac's body betrayed no sign of progress.

Those twin burdens-his crippled legs and impotence-clung to him like shackles, binding him to despair.