Part 4 — On My Very First Day at Work, the Owner Appointed My Replacement, but After One Answer from Me, the Guard’s Face Changed

The door opened and two people entered, but they were not holding weapons. The first woman showed a badge, while the second showed a document certified with a court seal.

“Federal investigators,” the woman said. “Everyone stay where you are.”

Luka immediately looked at his phone.

“I am calling my lawyer.”

Camila answered calmly:

“You already called him. He told you that he would no longer take the case.”

Luka froze.

“This is impossible.”

“No,” she said. “The only impossible thing was that you thought you would hide everything for so long.”

The federal investigator placed three things on the table: the mechanic’s testimony, the laboratory conclusion, and the recorder. Finally, she looked toward Massimo.

“Are you ready to give an official statement?”

Massimo looked toward me.

For the first time, there was neither the stubbornness of a commander nor the anger of an injured man in his eyes. There was only tiredness.

“Yes,” he said. “But first I have to speak with him.”

Luka shook his head.

“Massimo, if you say anything, the whole family will collapse.”

“You destroyed the family when you turned my death into a business plan.”

“I only wanted power.”

“You did not want power, Luka. You wanted everyone to be afraid of you.”

The federal investigator turned on the recorder.

Luka’s voice sounded in the room again: “Just make it so that the accident looks like an ordinary incident.”

This time he listened silently.

For the first time, he saw his own words on other people’s faces. He saw Massimo’s disgust, Camila’s disappointment, and my fear. It was as if the voice belonged to a strange man, but in the end he could no longer escape it.

“I said that,” he sighed.

“Yes,” I told him. “You yourself.”

They put handcuffs on him. I was not happy. I only exhaled, as if for three months there had been no air in my lungs.

Then the doctors took Massimo to the clinic. His room remained strangely empty. Only one photograph hung on the wall — young Massimo together with his father, both holding an old navigation compass in their hands. Under the table they found my worn green folder.

“He left this for you,” Camila told me.

There was one sheet of paper in the folder.

“Do not wait three months. Pay for the doctorate now.”

Massimo’s signature was below.

That same evening he called me from the clinic.

“You have to give the money back to me,” I told him.

“Why?”

“Because now you are only my patient.”

“And if I refuse you again?”

“Then I will record a refusal of treatment.”

After a long pause, he laughed.

“You are still very rude.”

“And you are still very stubborn.”

“Elene, thank you.”

This word turned out to be heavier for me than his entire palace.

The consideration of Luka’s case lasted several weeks. He admitted planning the accident, bribing the mechanic, and transferring money with which he intended to manage the family company. Massimo gave testimony, but refused an agreement.

“I do not wish punishment upon him,” he said to the investigator. “I only wish that he could no longer escape the consequences.”

Three months later I was sitting again in the university’s small office. New textbooks lay on the table, and on the windowsill was a small drawing made by my client: two people were walking between parallel bars, one was pushing a wheelchair, and the other had a bag in his hand.

Massimo first restored only the movement of his fingers. Then he moved his knee. In the fourth month he stood at the parallel supports.

“Do not look down,” I told him.

“What if I fall?”

“I will catch you.”

“Are you sure?”

“No. But I will still catch you.”

He smiled and took one step.

Then a second.

That evening the first snow came to Boston. In childhood I thought snow fell on the city noisily. Now I knew that the greatest changes happen almost silently.

I received the last message from Luka six months later. He was sending it from the court prison.

“I want to talk to you. I can explain everything.”

I looked at the screen for a long time.

Then I wrote a reply:

“You no longer need my listening. Your words are already heard by everyone.”

And I blocked the number.

That same night Massimo called me.

“Today I took ten steps independently.”

“You have to reach eleven.”

“Do you always have to demand more from me like this?”

“Until you learn to walk.”

“And after that?”

I went to the window. The snow was slowly melting on the glass of my office.

“After that you will decide yourself where you will go.”

“Perhaps together with you?”

I smiled, but I did not answer immediately. For the first time in my life I was not in a hurry to pay money, save someone, or hide someone else’s fear.

The green folder lay on the table. Its worn corner was still the same as that morning when I entered the palace. Only now it no longer contained tuition receipts and fear. Inside was a copy of my doctoral diploma.

I closed the folder and opened the window.

The first snowflake fell directly onto its faded green cover.

And for the first time I did not save anyone’s life.

I saved my life.