Chapter 2: The Envelope on the Table
"You danced with me at prom," I said.
"When no one else would."
Marcus stared.
His mop handle slowly dropped to his side.
"I...
I remember a girl," he said quietly.
"The wheelchair.
The blue dress."
"That was me."
He looked away fast.
I could see his jaw tighten.
"That was a long time ago," he said.
"I'm not that person anymore."
Something in the way he said it stopped me cold.
"What happened to you, Marcus?"
He was quiet for a long moment.
Then, barely above a whisper—
"Everything."
I came back the next day.
And the day after that.
Slowly, he started to talk.
A football injury his senior year of college.
Three surgeries.
The career that never happened.
A marriage that didn't survive the pain.
And then the accident two years ago—the one that left him with the limp.
"I lost almost everything," he said.
"The house.
My savings.
I'm just...
trying to get through the week."
I listened to every word.
What he didn't know was what I did for a living.
What he didn't know was who I had become.
And what he didn't know—was that I had already made a phone call that morning.
When I pulled an envelope from my bag and slid it across the table, his face went pale.
"What is this?" he asked.
"Open it."
His hands were shaking before he even broke the seal.
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What was inside that envelope—and how did Marcus react when he saw it?
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