He called Hannah.
No answer.
He drove to the address on her file—a small apartment in San Mateo. Hannah opened the door cautiously.
“I want you back,” Michael said. “With supervision. With doctors involved. Paid properly.”
Hannah shook her head. “I don’t work like that.”
“What do you want?” he asked.
“To be trusted,” she said. “Or nothing.”
Michael had built his empire by controlling every variable.
This one refused control.
For the first time in years, Michael compromised.
He offered a trial. Hannah would return—not as a caregiver, but as a rehabilitation aide-in-training. Dr. Wright would observe openly. No hidden cameras. No secrets.
Hannah agreed on one condition: the children would be told the truth. No pretending their progress came from luck.
Therapy moved to daylight hours.
Hannah worked alongside licensed therapists. She adjusted routines when they became rigid. She pushed the children when they wanted to quit—and stopped when effort turned into pain. The doctors resisted at first.
Then they started writing things down.
Three months later, Evan lifted his leg six inches off the mat.
Lily stood between the parallel bars for twelve seconds.