Chapter 6: The Setback

The balance was delicate. Each step was measured, each movement deliberate. The brace on her left leg helped hold it steady, making the impossible slightly more possible. Still, the strain on her arms, shoulders, and right leg was constant, a quiet reminder of the effort it demanded.

One afternoon, she decided to make the short walk to the mailbox. The sky was pale, the streets quiet, and she felt almost confident. She lifted her left leg, extended fully, the hip brace keeping it rigid, and shifted her weight carefully onto the crutches. The leg trembled slightly, but the support held, and she moved forward with a cautious rhythm.

Halfway down the path, a patch of wet leaves—unseen and slick—gave way beneath her right leg. Her body pitched forward before she could react. The crutches skidded; the hip brace kept the left leg rigid, but her right leg twisted painfully beneath her. She cried out as a sharp, stabbing pain shot through the ankle and shin.

Neighbors rushed out, voices anxious. She tried to push herself up, but the right leg would not support her. Every attempt to stand sent new waves of pain through her body. She could not lift the leg; she could not stabilize herself.