Margaret's POV The physical therapist pushed my shoulder back and I bit down hard to keep from crying out. Three months since that Moretti nurse shot me and my body still screamed in protest at every movement. "You are doing great, Mrs Chen. Another week and we can increase the weight training." Great felt like an exaggeration. I could barely lift my arm above my head. But I smiled and nodded because complaining never fixed anything. Four visited that afternoon like he did every Tuesday and Thursday. He brought flowers, which made me uncomfortable because I was staff, not family. But he insisted. "How are you feeling?" "Better. The therapist says I am progressing well." Four sat in the chair beside my hospital bed. He looked tired. The trial had taken everything out of him. "Margaret, I need to say something. Y
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