The sterile smell of disinfectant couldn't mask the rage radiating from Sebastian Thorne's hospital room. I watched him struggle to sit up in his bed, his face contorting with pain as his father, Maxwell, entered with measured steps.
"Still hurts, doesn't it?" Maxwell's voice carried no sympathy as he pulled up a chair beside his son's bed.
Sebastian's knuckles went white as he gripped the bed rails. "Every breath feels like fire. When will I be able to walk properly again?"
Maxwell's silence stretched long enough to make Sebastian's face pale further. The older man finally leaned back in his chair, his expression cold and clinical.
"The doctors were very thorough in their assessment. Your spine took significant trauma. The nerve damage is extensive."
"But it's temporary, right?" Sebastian's voice cracked. "A few months of therapy and I'll be back to normal?"
"No."
