Chapter 2: The Fall

It had been a Sunday.

The air was bright and cold, with a hint of spring in it — the kind of morning that made Stella want to move. She’d taken her bicycle out on the riverside path, the one that curved through the woods and over a narrow stone bridge. The world had felt light and effortless.

She remembered the rhythm of her legs pushing against the pedals, the hum of the tires over gravel, the smell of thawing earth. For a while, it was as if nothing bad could reach her.

Then came the dog.

A sudden blur of brown fur shot across the path. She swerved instinctively — too sharply. The front wheel caught on a slick patch of mud, and the bike lurched sideways.

She hit the ground hard. A crack. A scream. The world spun. Her left leg folded beneath her, and then her head struck the cold edge of the stone bridge.

There was the briefest moment of silence — then nothing.

When she woke in the hospital, her world had changed shape.

Her leg was cocooned in white plaster, her knee locked straight, her calf and ankle completely encased. The cast ran from mid-thigh down past her ankle, ending just before the ball of her foot. The rear and underside of her foot were sealed in plaster, firmly holding her heel and arch so they couldn’t move, while the front half — her forefoot and toes — remained uncovered, pale and slightly swollen against the edge of the cast.