Chapter 2 - No Pity for a Rossi
On the silent monitor, Clara approached Matteo’s wheelchair. The eight-year-old boy was staring blankly out the window, his soft blue long-sleeve shirt looking slightly too big for his fragile frame.
Clara didn't coddle him. She immediately began the gentle but necessary physical therapy routines on his legs. But after a few minutes, the frustration of his paralyzed reality became too much for the child. Matteo suddenly yanked his leg back as much as he could, his small hands gripping the armrests. He violently turned his face away, staring at the wall, completely shutting down.
In the surveillance room, Vincent’s chest tightened. This was the moment every other nurse had failed. They would usually start crying, petting Matteo's hair, and telling him it was okay to give up for the day.
Clara did none of those things.
Instead of forcing his leg, she paused. She calmly lowered herself to the floor, kneeling so she was perfectly at Matteo’s eye level. She didn't reach out to touch him. She just sat there, waiting for him to look at her.
Vincent watched her realistic facial micro-expressions on the high-definition feed. She wasn't angry, and she certainly wasn't sad. She looked at his son with profound, unwavering respect.
"You still have choices, Matteo," Clara said, her voice gentle but layered with a firm, undeniable strength. "You don't have to do this today. But giving up doesn't punish the people who hurt you. It only punishes you."
Vincent’s breath caught in his throat. He stared at the screen in absolute disbelief.
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Slowly, agonizingly, Matteo turned his head back. He looked into Clara's calm, intelligent eyes. For the first time in a year, the boy didn't look dead inside.
👉 Clara had broken through the boy's emotional wall, but a miraculous movement was about to send a shockwave through the mansion.
