Chapter 14 - The Defense
Spring arrived in Seattle, bringing with it a bloom of cherry blossoms and a defining moment for Clara.
It was the day of her thesis defense at the University of Washington. The auditorium was mostly empty, save for a panel of stern-looking professors, a few graduate students, and me. I sat in the front row, my cane resting against my knee, holding a bouquet of white lilies.
Clara stood at the podium. She didn't look nervous. She looked like a general commanding a battlefield. Her presentation on "Neuroplasticity and Biomechanical Intervention in Severe Lumbar Trauma" was flawless. She didn't just present theory; she presented undeniable, documented results.
When one of the professors, a harsh critic of her unconventional methods, questioned the viability of her timeline, Clara didn't blink.
“The data speaks for itself, Dr. Aris,” Clara replied confidently, clicking to the final slide. It was a video of me, taken two weeks prior, walking across the conservatory without the cane, using only a single leg brace. “When the psychological barrier of the patient is addressed with the same aggression as the physical trauma, the neurological pathways adapt at an accelerated rate.”
The panel was silent. They had nothing left to challenge.
Fifteen minutes later, the doors opened, and Clara walked out into the hallway. The professors had given her a unanimous pass. Dr. Clara Hayes.
I stood up from the bench, leaving the cane resting against the wall. I took three slow, deliberate steps toward her. I wrapped my arms around her waist, spinning her around as she laughed—a bright, beautiful sound that echoed through the academic halls.
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“Congratulations, Doctor,” I murmured against her lips.
“Thank you,” she smiled, her eyes shining with unshed tears. “Now, let’s go home. I have a billionaire to torture in physical therapy.”
