Eight weeks had passed since the accident that had changed everything for Chase, and for that time period, he hid away from the world, making his medical report sealed. For eight weeks, Jada had dedicated herself to taking care of Chase, never leaving his side. Her days were filled with endless routines of therapy sessions, encouraging words, and unwavering support, and she started working from home during that time. Every morning, like clockwork, Jada would prepare Chase's breakfast and roll his wheelchair to his bedside. She had become a master at making oat, scrambled eggs and toast just the way he liked it. Jada would greet him with a warm smile, a beam that hid her worry and fear. She had seen Chase at his lowest, and every day, she hoped for a sign, any sign, that he was getting better. On this Wednesday morning, as Jada brought in a tray of food, she noticed something different. Chase wasn't in his usual position, lying in bed, propped up with pillows. Instead, he was stand
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