“Because my brother needs me to stay this way.”
I stared at Nathan.
For several seconds, neither of us spoke.
The mansion suddenly felt different.
The expensive furniture. The polished floors. The portraits hanging on the walls.
Everything that had seemed luxurious that morning now felt like part of a trap.
I lowered my voice.
“What did Adrian do?”
Nathan looked at the locked door.
“Not so loud.”
“Who knows?”
“No one.”
“You’re telling me your own family has been keeping you in a wheelchair?”
“My brother has.”
“Why?”
Nathan’s jaw tightened.
“Because eight months ago, I discovered he was stealing from my company.”
My heart began pounding.
“How much?”
“Twenty-three million dollars.”
I stared at him.
“He had been moving money through shell companies. I confronted him. Two days later, I was in a car accident.”
I looked at his legs.
“You think he caused the accident?”
“I don’t think.”
Nathan paused.
“I know.”
A chill ran down my spine.
He explained that his car had been tampered with.
The brakes failed on a road where there were no witnesses.
He survived.
But when he woke up in the hospital, Adrian was already telling everyone that Nathan had suffered permanent spinal damage.
Doctors initially believed Nathan had severe paralysis.
But during rehabilitation, Nathan slowly began regaining sensation in his right leg.
Then movement.
He told only one person.
His physical therapist.
Three days later, that therapist disappeared from his care.
“She resigned,” Adrian told me.
Nathan didn’t believe it.
Neither did I.
“So why didn’t you tell the police?”
Nathan laughed bitterly.
“Because Adrian had already taken control of everything.”
His phone.
His company.
His medical records.
Even his bank accounts.
“He told everyone I was mentally confused after the accident. If I accused him, they would have assumed it was part of my brain injury.”
I looked at him.
“Then why hire me?”
“I didn’t.”
I frowned.
“What?”
Nathan looked directly into my eyes.
“Adrian hired you.”
My blood ran cold.
“Why?”
“Because he wants someone here twenty-four hours a day who believes I’m helpless.”
I stepped backward.
“Then why did you show me the truth?”
“Because you were the first person who touched my leg without treating me like a dead man.”
I didn’t know what to say.
Nathan continued.
“You asked me what music I liked.”
I remembered.
“You asked me if I wanted the curtains open.”
I remembered that too.
“You spoke to me instead of speaking over me.”
His voice became quieter.
“I needed to know if you were someone I could trust.”
I looked at the locked door.
“What do you want me to do?”
“Nothing tonight.”
He reached for the blanket.
“Tomorrow, act like you saw nothing.”
The next morning, Adrian entered Nathan’s room at exactly eight.
He was smiling.
“How did our new caregiver sleep?”
I smiled back.
“Very well.”
“And Nathan?”
“He slept comfortably.”
Adrian looked at his brother.
“Any problems?”
Nathan stared blankly ahead.
“No.”
I almost laughed.
He was an incredible actor.
Adrian walked around the wheelchair and examined the medical equipment.
Then he looked at me.
“You understand that Nathan’s condition is permanent?”
“Yes.”
“There is no chance of recovery.”
“I understand.”
“Good.”
He smiled.
“Because false hope can be dangerous.”
I nodded.
After he left, Nathan whispered:
“He’s watching you.”
“I know.”
“Don’t make the mistake of thinking you’re safe because you’re the caregiver.”
“What does that mean?”
“He has ruined people who got too close to the truth.”
That afternoon, I found something strange.
Nathan’s medication schedule contained a drug I didn’t recognize.
I checked the medical chart.
It wasn’t listed.
I asked Vanessa about it.
She became defensive immediately.
“It’s nothing you need to worry about.”
“I’m responsible for his medications.”
“Margaret handles those decisions.”
“Then I’ll ask her.”
Vanessa grabbed the chart from my hands.
“Don’t interfere with family matters.”
She walked away.
That night, Nathan whispered:
“They’re keeping me sedated.”
I stared at him.
“How long?”
“Since the accident.”
“Why?”
“So I remain weak.”
I looked at the medication list again.
The pieces were beginning to fit together.
They didn’t need Nathan completely paralyzed.
They only needed him to look helpless.
Weak enough that nobody would question who controlled his company.
Two weeks passed.
I played the role of the obedient caregiver.
I helped Nathan bathe.
I prepared his meals.
I pushed his wheelchair through the garden.
And every night, after everyone went to sleep, Nathan practiced moving his legs.
One centimeter at a time.
His right foot became stronger.
Then his ankle.
Then his knee.
I helped him transfer from the wheelchair to the bed while pretending he couldn’t support himself.
It was dangerous.
If anyone discovered us, we had no idea what would happen.
But we needed evidence.
Nathan had hidden a small flash drive inside the lining of his wheelchair.
It contained copies of financial documents.
Bank transfers.
Emails.
Invoices.
Everything showing Adrian had been stealing from Sterling Global.
But there was one problem.
The files had been encrypted.
Nathan needed his old office computer to access them.
And Adrian controlled the office.
So we created a plan.
I would distract Vanessa.
Nathan would move.
Actually move.
Across the house.
Using the walls for support.
The first time I watched him stand, I almost cried.
His legs shook violently.
He gripped the edge of the table.
“I haven’t stood in eight months.”
“You can do it.”
He took one step.
Then another.
Then collapsed into my arms.
I caught him.
For several seconds, neither of us spoke.
Then Nathan laughed.
A real laugh.
“I forgot what it felt like.”
I smiled.
“You’re going to feel it again.”
But we didn’t know someone was watching.
That evening, Margaret knocked on my door.
“Claire?”
“Yes?”
“May I come in?”
I opened the door.
She was holding a glass of wine.
“I wanted to apologize.”
“For what?”
“For the way this family has treated you.”
I said nothing.
Margaret sighed.
“When my husband died, Nathan promised to protect this family.”
She looked away.
“Adrian has always been jealous of him.”
“Why?”
“Because Nathan inherited the company.”
I already knew that.
But Margaret continued.
“Adrian believes it should have been his.”
She took a sip.
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