"It's fine. Just torqued it wrong."
"Torqued it wrong?" She knelt beside the couch, her fingers gentle but firm as she examined the joint. "You mean when that asshole deliberately targeted your injured knee?"
"You noticed that?"
"I notice everything about—" She stopped, focusing intently on my knee. "It was almost healed from the MCL tear, wasn't it?"
"Yeah. It was almost healed."
"Wasbeing the operative word." She positioned ice packs with practiced efficiency. "You have compression wraps?"
"Bathroom cabinet, top shelf."
While she was gone, I tried to adjust position and nearly blacked out from the pain. When she returned, she took one look at my face and her expression softened.
"Here." She handed me ibuprofen and water. "Anti-inflammatory. And don't tell me you're fine—you're white as a sheet."
Her hands were gentle as she wrapped the knee, the compression providing immediate relief. But the intimacy of her touch—her fingers on my skin—created a different kind of discomfort. It had been three years since anyone had taken care of me like this.
"You've done this before," I observed.
"Adaptive PE certification required sports medicine training. Lots of kids with various conditions need modified activities, which sometimes means injuries." She sat back onher heels, assessing her work. "This needs proper medical attention."
"After the roads clear—"
"Brad." Her eyes met mine. "Stop being stubborn. You're hurt."
"I've played through worse."
"This isn't a game. This is your mobility, your career, your ability to take care of Finn."
Finn. As if summoned, he appeared in the doorway, movie forgotten.
"Dad? Your knee looks really bad."
"It looks worse than it is, buddy. Come here."
He climbed carefully onto the couch beside me, avoiding the injured leg. "Those men hurt you because of me."
"What? No. Finn, no."
"We only went to the store because of my medicine."
"Hey." I pulled him against my side. "We went to the store because we needed supplies. Those men were just..." I searched for the right words. "Some people make bad choices when they're scared."
"Were you scared?"
I felt Serena watching us. "Yeah. I was scared they might hurt you or Miss Serena."
"But Miss Serena saved us," Finn said with satisfaction. "With the cart!" He looked up at me with sudden seriousness. "Maybe you don't have to worry so much anymore, Dad. Miss Serena's here now."
"She did protect us," I said, catching her eye over Finn's head. The look that passed between us held acknowledgment, gratitude, something deeper I wasn't ready to name. "Maybe you're right, buddy."
Serena's slight nod confirmed what we both felt—that something had shifted between us in that crowded store.
My phone's sharp ring cut through the moment. Theo's name flashed on the screen.
"Put me on speaker," he said when I answered. "I want to talk to both of you."
