Over the next few days, Maddox’s ability to respond to pain stimuli would determine whether he had any hope of walking again.
If there was no reaction, it would confirm the worst—a permanently severed spinal cord, and a future spent in a wheelchair.
The prognosis was bleak. Days passed, and there was no sign of movement. Maddox remained still, weak, and silent. Even the smallest twitch would have meant the world, but nothing came.
The team kept him comfortable, showering him with love, clean bedding, and warm meals. Fahrudin visited every day, whispering encouragements and keeping Maddox company.
And then, on the sixteenth day, something miraculous happened.
It started as a tremble, a slight shift of weight. Then, as if mustering strength from some deep reserve, Maddox pushed himself up.
His legs quivered beneath him, and for a brief moment—just a heartbeat—he stood on his own.
