Chapter 2

Paralyzed?

My breath caught in my throat. For an active basketball coach who lived for sports, losing his legs was a fate worse than death. I couldn't fathom how he would handle such a devastating blow.

With a heavy heart, I finished the paperwork and found their hospital room.

The room was dead silent. Austin was lying flat on the bed, staring blankly at the ceiling. Amber sat at the foot of the bed with her head down. Neither of them said a word. The atmosphere was suffocating.

Seeing me walk in, Amber finally broke down, tears streaming down her face.

"Chloe, it’s all my fault... I shouldn't have forced him to run that light..."

Through her sobbing, I gradually put the pieces together.

Amber had been studying for her real estate license and had weekend classes. That morning, Austin was dropping her off on his Vespa. Running late, she kept pressuring him to speed and run a red light. He did, and a SUV driving on a green light slammed right into them.

Since Austin ran the light, he was fully at fault. To make matters worse, his moped only had basic liability insurance. No comprehensive coverage meant they had to pay every penny of the astronomical medical bills themselves. Their entire world had just collapsed.

I rubbed my temples, frustrated. "Amber, what were you thinking? No matter how late you are, you don't run a red light! Do you have any idea how dangerous that is?"

Amber was still trying to justify it. "How was I supposed to know a car would actually hit us? He ran red lights for me all the time before, and we were always fine."

As her best friend, there were harsh words I wanted to say, but there was no point in arguing now.

I offered what little comfort I could and handed her all the cash I had in my purse. I had rushed over so quickly I hadn't had time to stop at an ATM.

I wanted to say something to Austin, but looking at his hollow expression, I knew nothing would register.

With a sigh, I left the hospital.

The next day, I went back to visit. The tension in the room was palpable. They weren't speaking to each other. It looked like they had a massive fight.

I pulled Amber out into the hallway and urged her to be supportive. Austin was going through the darkest moment of his life.

"I know, I know. Just go home, Chloe," she replied, her tone dripping with impatience.

On the third day, before I could even make it to the hospital, Amber walked through our front door, pushing Austin in a wheelchair.

"Why are you guys discharged so soon?" I asked, shocked.

"His physical injuries are fine, it’s just the nerve damage in his legs," Amber said coldly. "Whether he stays in the hospital or not, he’s not going to walk again. Why waste money on a hospital bed?"

She clearly didn't want to talk about it and wheeled Austin straight into their bedroom.

Sensing their miserable mood, I kept to myself, staying in my room and working late into the night.

The next morning, I was woke up by a phone call from Amber.

"Chloe, I have some errands to run today. Can you please keep an eye on Austin for me?"

I agreed without a second thought. "Of course. Go take care of what you need to."

"Thank you, Chloe. I’m really glad I have you as a friend."

Her voice sounded incredibly low and heavy. At the time, I didn't think much of it.

I got out of bed and walked over to their room. The door was wide open. Austin was awake, lying motionless in bed, staring blankly into space.

"Hey, Austin. Do you want something to eat?" I asked softly, stepping closer.

"No, thank you," he mumbled, shaking his head.

"How about some water?"

This time, he didn't refuse.

I filled a glass and held a straw to his lips. He drank the entire glass in one go.

By lunchtime, Austin still refused to eat. He only accepted another glass of water, no matter how much I tried to persuade him to eat.

As night fell, there was still no sign of Amber. She hadn't even called.

A sickening feeling settled in my stomach. I walked into their bedroom and looked around. My heart sank.

Amber’s suitcases were gone. Her makeup, her clothes—everything was completely cleared out.

No way... A terrifying realization hit me.