Chapter 3 - Camille Preferred the Wheelchair
Once suspicion existed, old memories changed meaning.
Landon began remembering comments he had once interpreted as concern.
The first time he transferred into a walker without help, Camille did not smile.
She said:
“Don’t get unrealistic.”
When his physical therapist suggested trying short standing exercises at home, Camille immediately asked whether a fall could permanently worsen his condition.
When the therapist said careful practice was appropriate, Camille insisted the equipment made the living room ugly.
The walker disappeared into a storage closet two days later.
Landon assumed staff moved it.
Now he asked.
Nobody had.
Camille had.
Nora remembered something else.
Whenever Landon used the wheelchair at public events, Camille became extraordinarily affectionate.
She adjusted his jacket.
Placed her hand on his shoulder.
Bent beside him for photographs.
People praised her constantly.
“You’re incredible.”
“He’s lucky to have you.”
“Not every woman would stay.”
Camille always pretended the compliments embarrassed her.
But Nora noticed she never stopped them.
Landon remembered too.
At first he had been grateful.
After the accident, shame had become almost as difficult as pain. Camille’s public devotion made him feel less afraid that disability had made him undesirable.
Then slowly, that devotion became another cage.
If Landon said he wanted to transfer himself, Camille rushed forward.
If he wanted to travel alone with Nora, Camille called it unsafe.
If he mentioned driving with hand controls someday, she said:
“Why would you put yourself through that?”
Always phrased as compassion.
Always moving him toward dependence.
The camera changed compassion into evidence.
The footage was clear.
Camille entered the bedroom while Landon pretended to sleep.
She checked him.
Checked the hallway.
Then she altered his drink.
Nora watched the video once and turned away.
Landon watched it four times.
“What is it?” he asked.
“We need a doctor to answer that.”
His physician arranged testing of the saved drink.
The preliminary result came back the next morning.
A sedating medication.
Not something that would cause permanent paralysis.
But enough to worsen alertness, coordination, balance, blood pressure, and physical performance.
Exactly the things Landon needed most during rehabilitation.
Nora sat beside him after the call.
“She’s been making you think your recovery stopped.”
Landon stared at his legs.
The sentence felt impossible.
For fourteen months, he had been fighting his own body.
May you like
Now he had to consider that some of those failures had not belonged to his body at all.
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