Chương 6
He knocked lightly.
“Come in.”
Luca opened the door.
Maya was sitting on the bed with a blanket around her shoulders.
A book rested open in her lap.
“You’re supposed to be sleeping.”
“You’re supposed to be sleeping too.”
He looked at the clock.
She was right.
“That was not your job to notice.”
“It is now.”
Luca shook his head.
“You’re strange.”
“I know.”
She said it proudly.
He moved closer.
The room was different from the rest of the apartment.
Not because of decorations.
Because it looked temporary.
Maya had only been there a short time, but she had already left evidence of herself.
A hair tie on the nightstand.
A drawing beside the lamp.
A stuffed animal she had apparently carried everywhere.
Luca noticed it was missing one eye.
“You brought that with you?”
Maya looked down.
“Her name is Lucy.”
“The stuffed animal?”
“Yes.”
“What happened to her eye?”
Maya looked offended.
“She had an accident.”
Luca almost smiled.
“That explains nothing.”
“It was a serious accident.”
“Clearly.”
Maya hugged the stuffed animal.
“She doesn’t like talking about it.”
Luca looked at her.
Then he looked away.
There was something uncomfortable about how easily children could say things adults spent years avoiding.
“Can I ask you something?” he said.
Maya nodded.
“Do you remember things that happen when you’re scared?”
The question changed her expression.
Only slightly.
But Luca noticed.
Children were often better at hiding things than adults believed.
“Sometimes.”
“What kind of things?”
Maya looked at the floor.
“Things I don’t want to remember.”
Luca was quiet.
He had forgotten she had her own reasons for being in the apartment.
Her mother, Elena, had never explained much.
She had said Maya needed a safe place for a while.
That was all.
Luca had not asked.
He had enough unfinished things in his own life.
“What happened when you were scared?” Maya asked.
The question caught him off guard.
He almost gave his usual answer.
Nothing.
Instead, he looked down at his hands.
“I was in the hospital.”
“After your accident?”
“Yes.”
“Were you scared?”
Luca let out a slow breath.
“Yes.”
Maya waited.
She was good at waiting.
“I remember hearing people talk,” he said.
“Doctors?”
“Yes.”
“Were they saying you would be okay?”
Luca looked toward the door.
“No.”
The honesty surprised even him.
“They were trying to help.”
“But?”
“But sometimes people can be kind and still tell you something you don’t want to hear.”
Maya nodded.
“That happens.”
“How do you know?”
She shrugged.
“People say nice things when they don’t know what else to say.”
The answer was too mature.
Luca studied her.
“What happened to you?”
Maya looked back at her book.
“My mom says I ask too many questions.”
“She’s probably right.”
“She says that too.”
For a moment, Luca thought she might continue.
She did not.
He respected that.
Maybe because he understood.
Not every silence needed to be broken.
“I need to tell Dr. Bell something,” Luca said.
Maya looked up.
“Something about your legs?”
“Yes.”
“Are you scared?”
He almost denied it.
Then he stopped.
“Yes.”
Maya nodded.
“Okay.”
“That’s all?”
“What else?”
“I don’t know.”
She closed the book.
“When I’m scared, I count things.”
“What things?”
“Anything.”
“Does it help?”
“Sometimes.”
Luca looked around the room.
“One.”
“What?”
“One thing I can count.”
Maya smiled.
“Good.”
He looked at the stuffed animal.
“Two.”
“Lucy is not a thing.”
“Sorry.”
“Three.”
He looked at the lamp.
“Four.”
The corner of the blanket.
“Five.”
The small drawing on the table.
The exercise felt ridiculous.
But his breathing slowed.
Maya watched him.
“You’re better at it than you think.”
“At counting?”
“At being scared.”
Luca looked at her.
“That makes no sense.”
“It does.”
“How?”
“Because you’re still here.”
The sentence was simple.
But it stayed with him after he left the room.
The next morning, Luca searched through old files.
He had avoided that box for years.
It sat in the back of his home office.
A place he rarely entered.
The room still looked like it belonged to the person he had been before the accident.
Awards on the wall.
Business photographs.
A desk he never used.
The box contained everything from the first year after the crash.
Medical documents.
Insurance paperwork.
Notes from rehabilitation.
Things he had collected but never organized.
He opened it slowly.
Paper had a strange way of preserving moments people wanted to escape.
The first document was a hospital discharge summary.
Then therapy records.
Then scans.
Nothing unusual.
Nothing that explained the movement.
He kept searching.
Hours passed.
The city outside changed from morning to afternoon.
At some point, Elena brought coffee.
“You’ve been in here all day.”
Luca looked up.
“I know.”
“That’s usually not a good sign.”
He held up a folder.
“I’m looking for something.”
“Something from twelve years ago?”
“Yes.”
Elena placed the coffee beside him.
“Do you know what?”
“No.”
That answer made her smile slightly.
“Very helpful.”
“I’m serious.”
“I know.”
She looked at the papers.
“Do you want help?”
The offer surprised him.
Not because Elena was unwilling.
Because Luca was used to doing everything alone.
“I don’t know.”
“Another thing you don’t know.”
He glanced at her.
“You and Maya are becoming a team.”
“She’s convincing.”
“That’s dangerous.”
“It is.”
They searched together.
Not efficiently.
Not dramatically.
Just two people sitting on the floor of an office surrounded by old papers.
They found old bills.
A handwritten note from a physical therapist.
A photograph Luca did not remember taking.
Then Elena pulled out a thin envelope.
“This was inside.”
Luca took it.
There was no label.
No date.
Only his name.
His hands became still.
“I don’t remember this.”
“That doesn’t mean anything.”
He opened it.
Inside was a single page.
A handwritten note.
The handwriting was his.
That made his stomach tighten.
He read the first line.
I felt my toes move today.
May you like
Luca stopped.
The room seemed to shrink.
