Chapter 4 - The Secret Therapy
Alexander didn't just have a brilliant mind; he had the stubborn willpower of a titan.
With Dr. Evans running interference during the day, the real work happened at night. From 1:00 AM to 4:00 AM, the ICU room became a secret training ground.
His muscles had severely atrophied, but the neurological pathways were slowly repairing. First, it was a twitch in his index finger. Then, the ability to turn his neck an inch to the left.
Sofia sat on the end of his bed, drawing pictures in her coloring book, acting as the perfect lookout. "You can do it, Mr. Alex," she would whisper.
Rosa massaged his legs, working the stiff, frozen muscles, while Dr. Evans carefully adjusted his vocal cords, removing the tracheotomy tube and replacing it with a specialized speaking valve.
On the fourth night, Alexander forced his lips to part. His throat was a desert, his vocal cords rusted from years of disuse.
Dr. Evans leaned in close. "Don't force it, Alex. Just a breath."
Alexander closed his eyes. The rage against Elena, the absolute fury at Marcus, fueled him.
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"R-Rosa," Alexander croaked. It sounded like grinding gravel, but it was a word. It was a voice.
Rosa burst into tears. Alexander Vance was returning from the dead.
