(RAFFAELE'S POV)
I look down at my right arm.
It sits against my body inside the immobilizer, positioned and strapped. And I look at it the way you look at something that should be familiar but isn't anymore.
I focus on my fingers, and despite the doctor's warning, I try to move them.
But nothing happens.
Not a twitch. Not a tremor. Not the faintest suggestion that the message I'm sending is being received.
I try again. Harder this time. Because I'm not ready to accept there's a chance that this is going to be my life now.
My fingers lie exactly where they were.
Perfectly still.
Completely indifferent to all the effort I'm putting in.
I feel a burning sensation in the corner of my eyes. Then I blink once and the tears spill over, running down my cheeks.
I just let it go because there's no energy left in me to hold them back.
I look at that hand for a long moment.
