Chapter 8
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The adrenaline crash hit me the moment I closed my office door. I leaned against the heavy wood, my hands shaking slightly, taking slow, deep breaths to regulate my spiking heart rate. Two years ago, an ambush like that would have sent me into a spiral of anxiety for weeks. I would have felt crushing guilt, agonizing over whether I was a terrible person for turning away my own blood.
Today, the only thing I felt was an overwhelming, fierce pride. I had protected my peace. I had held the line.
A soft knock interrupted my thoughts. My friend and colleague, Sarah, peeked her head into the office, holding two bottles of cold water. Her face was etched with deep concern.
"Hey," Sarah said softly, stepping inside and closing the door behind her. "Brenda told me what happened. Are you okay? Do you need me to cover your first two appointments? I can shuffle my schedule around."
"I'm okay, Sarah. Really," I smiled, taking the water bottle and pressing it against my flushed cheek. "I thought seeing her would break me, but it didn't. It just reminded me why I locked the door in the first place."
"You are a total badass, Sophia," Sarah grinned, bumping her shoulder against mine. "But seriously, if she comes back, we are calling the police immediately. We protect our own around here."
"I know. Thank you," I said, taking a sip of the water and finally feeling my pulse return to a normal, steady rhythm. "But I don't need a break. In fact, I need to work. Who is my first patient?"
Sarah checked the tablet in her hand. "New intake. Lucas Vance. Thirty-two years old, architect. He was in a pretty severe lateral car collision three months ago. Reconstructive surgery on his right ACL and a minor fracture in his lumbar spine. The notes say he is highly motivated but incredibly frustrated with his lack of mobility."
"Sounds like my specialty," I said, putting my professional mask firmly in place. The best way to banish the shadows of my toxic family was to focus entirely on helping someone else heal.
May you like
I grabbed Lucas Vance’s chart, smoothed down my white clinical coat, and walked out into the gym area. A tall man with dark, unruly hair and intense hazel eyes was sitting on an examination table, glaring at his heavily braced right leg as if it had personally betrayed him.
"Mr. Vance?" I asked, stepping up to the table with a warm, confident smile. "I'm Sophia. I'm going to be your physical therapist. Let's get you moving again."
