You start the work the next morning, and it’s nothing like the victories you’re used to buying.
You sweat on mats in a mansion that used to exist only for comfort.
You shake through repetitions that feel like bargaining with your own nerves.
Marina pushes you without cruelty, counting reps like she’s counting you back into your life.
You hate her for it sometimes, and then you’re grateful, and then you hate yourself for needing anyone.
Sofía cheers every tiny improvement like it’s fireworks.
When you manage a clean transfer without assistance, she claps so hard she loses her balance.
And you realize you haven’t heard this much laughter in your house since before your accident.