The Physics of Limping
Copyright© 2025 by Heel
Chapter 7: The Equation Balances
The announcement came two weeks later.
A short, formal statement from the university’s investigation committee declared that “Mr. Adrian Voss is fully exonerated of any involvement in the mechanical incident of last month.”
Adrian read it three times, mostly because he liked the phrasing. Exonerated sounded almost heroic — or at least statistically improbable.
Campus life moved on quickly, as it always did. Leo Kramer transferred to another program, the sculpture garden was repaired, and Adrian — for the first time in weeks — could walk across campus without hearing whispers of “the mad physicist.”
When he saw Sophia again, she was navigating the quad on crutches — lighter this time, sleek aluminum instead of hospital steel. Her knee brace was still there, but smaller, almost elegant in its geometry. She looked steady, determined, and, to Adrian’s mind, profoundly symmetrical again.
He hurried to catch up.
“Sophia,” he called.
She turned, wary for half a heartbeat — then smiled, just slightly. “Voss. So you’re officially not a criminal genius.”
“I prefer misunderstood visionary,” he said. “But I’ll take the downgrade.”
She laughed, and he was absurdly grateful for the sound.
For a moment, they walked — or rather, she walked and he adjusted his stride to hers. Each swing of her crutches had a rhythm that was both practical and oddly musical. Adrian’s brain, against his will, began mapping it to a pattern of oscillation and harmonic motion.
“Don’t even start analyzing,” she said, catching his look.
He smiled. “Old habits die with great difficulty.”
“Try harder,” she said, but her tone was gentler now.
They found a bench by the fountain. She sat carefully, propping the crutches beside her. For a long time, neither spoke. The wind rippled the surface of the water; the world felt balanced again.
Finally, Sophia said quietly, “You really did figure it out.”
“I had help,” Adrian said. “Mostly from the laws of probability — and a healthy fear of prison.”
She rolled her eyes but smiled. “You’re still impossible.”
“Yes,” he said. “But now I’m statistically innocent.”
Her laugh came freely this time. Then she looked at him — properly, maybe for the first time — and said, “You know, for all your equations, you’re not that bad at being human.”
“High praise,” he said. “I should frame it.”
They sat there a while longer. The campus moved around them, full of motion and noise and life. Adrian felt, perhaps for the first time, that not every system needed solving — some just needed understanding.