Chapter 4

For the next half month, I did my best to live the way I used to.

I stopped asking for the wheelchair. I stopped crying out in pain.

Every morning, breakfast was on the table right on time.

When Roderick came by to record my progress, I even handed him the recovery chart already filled in.

The look in Pat's eyes slowly softened.

She took me to see her friends, and to everyone she said Roderick's recovery philosophy had saved us both.

Someone praised how brilliant Roderick was.

Pat nodded, and there was a lightness in her voice I hadn't heard in a long time.

"He pulled me out of the pit too."

I sat quietly to one side, head bent, pinching the dead leaves off a pothos.

I'd bought that plant three years ago, the day I was discharged.

Pat had carried me on her back and spent forever picking it out, saying a home should always have a little life in it.

Now it sat on the balcony, its leaves gone dry and yellow.

I watered it every day, and still it withered, little by little.

Roderick followed my gaze and said with a smile, "Plants have to adjust to the natural environment too. You can't keep coddling them in a greenhouse."

Pat said, "He's right."

I nodded too.

"Right."

That evening, I went to the study to get something.

Without meaning to, I knocked a folder off the shelf beside the printer.

Among the scattered pages was an overseas posting confirmation, already signed.

Destination: Switzerland.

Term: three years.

Another was a plane ticket to Switzerland for the same day.

The name on it was Roderick.

The last few pages were a drafted agreement to dissolve our relationship.

One house, two million, and once the care arrangement ended, neither party would interfere with the other.

I sat down at the desk and read through those pages one by one.

So it turned out her rush to prove I could be independent wasn't because she hoped I'd stand on my own feet again.

She was only clearing the last obstacle to leaving.

The moment I no longer needed looking after, she could walk away without any weight on her.

Pat's voice came from outside the door.

"Lucius, I'm working late tonight. I won't be home."

I put the papers back where they'd been.

"Okay."

She seemed pleased by how calm I was.

"Get to bed early. Don't wait up for me."

"Mm."

The lock clicked shut, and I walked into the bathroom and looked at the bare walls.

The grab bars that once kept me safe, Pat had taken down with her own hands half a month ago.

She said I should learn to stop relying on things like that.

I found the phone Pat had hidden at the bottom of a drawer.

I opened the notes app and typed slowly.

"Your stomach medicine is in the second drawer on the left. Don't take it on an empty stomach."

"You're allergic to seafood. When you eat out, remember to always ask."

"Your knees ache on rainy days. Remember to turn on the heat."

"Don't overwater the pothos on the balcony. It didn't drown. Its roots have already rotted."

I stopped there for a long time.

"Pat, this time I won't call for you again, and I won't be any more trouble."

"You're finally free."

"Just as you wanted, I'm normal now."

"In the moment I let go, I am completely clear-headed."

Three in the morning, and the bathroom was thick with steam.

I set my slippers neatly outside the door.

The phone lay on the sink, the screen resting on that note.

Barefoot, I stepped onto the water-slick tiles.

The phone buzzed.

A message from Pat.

【Tomorrow afternoon I'm going to Switzerland with Roderick.】

【There's an agreement on the study desk. Lucius, you can take care of yourself now, so let's end this with some dignity.】

I glanced at it and pressed the screen dark.

The hand gripping the door frame slowly loosened.

The instant my body lost its balance, I closed my eyes.

……

The airport announcement had already begun hurrying the last passengers to board.

Pat stood outside the gate, refreshing the chat over and over.

Still no reply.

Her brow drew slightly together as the unease inside her spread, inch by inch.

Roderick urged her from beside her, "Pat, it's time to board."

Pat answered, but she still didn't switch on airplane mode.

The next second, an unknown call filled the screen out of nowhere.

She stared at the number for two seconds, then finally answered.

"Is this Pat Gilbert? This is an officer from the Southside Police Department. Mr. Lucius Henson has had an accident. Please come here right away."