The Accident

The moment my dad's plane took off, I got the notification. I went straight upstairs and woke the freeloader.

"What are you doing, Cadu?" Sarah mumbled.

I pulled her up by the arms, dragged her to the closet, and threw her suitcases on the floor.

"Pack your things. Your stay is over."

"You can't do this to me, Carlos Eduardo."

"I'm already doing it."

I dumped everything she owned on the floor. Sarah packed through her tears. I didn't care. Once she zipped the last suitcase, she threw herself on me, begging to stay. I called the house staff and Berta, our housekeeper, and asked them to take the bags downstairs.

We loaded everything into my car. I told the staff her entry to the house was now banned — or they'd all be out on the street. I peeled out of the driveway.

On the highway, Sarah grabbed my arm and yanked the steering wheel. We crashed through the bridge barrier and plunged into the lake below. I tried to get out, but the door was jammed and my seatbelt wouldn't release. Sarah was unconscious.

The car filled with water. I fought to stay alive, but the pressure on my body was too much. Everything went black. I don't know how I was rescued, but hours later I was in a hospital, undergoing surgery, unconscious. Intubated.

Sarah went through two surgeries and was transferred to a room with a broken arm and leg. My father and stepmother were notified and rushed back from the ranch.

My dad's blood pressure crashed, and he needed emergency treatment. Days turned into weeks. I woke up three weeks later. My friend Romeo, who'd performed my surgery, removed the tube and told me what happened. He asked me not to talk for now. I nodded.

Hours later I was moved to a private room. My dad was there, crying. Vanessa stood beside him — not a single real tear in her eyes. The nurses transferred me to the bed and hooked up IVs and the heart monitor.

"Hey, buddy. Close call," Romeo said.

"What happened?"

"You and Sarah were pulled from the water. You'd both swallowed a lot, but they saved you. Sarah had two surgeries — broken arm and leg. She's fine. Already discharged. Bernardo took her to her apartment."

"She's the one who drove us off that bridge. I want her locked up."

"She's saying you lost control of the car. That you'd been drinking."

"I wasn't drinking. I was taking her to the apartment. She's lying. When's the anesthesia going to wear off?"

"What do you mean?"

"I'm numb from the waist down. When's it going to wear off?"

Romeo stood up. My dad moved closer.

"You can't feel your legs?" Romeo asked.

"No. Nothing."

Romeo said he needed to run some tests — an MRI of my spine — and disappeared. My dad stayed by my side.

"He's crippled," Vanessa said flatly.

"Vanessa, wait outside. Get out," my dad snapped.

She left. I was furious.

Romeo came back with a team and wheeled me through the hospital corridors. I went through every test imaginable. From the look on Romeo's face, none of it was good. I started panicking — I kept trying to move my legs and nothing happened.

They brought me back to the room. My dad stayed until nightfall, then left. I couldn't sleep. Late that night, Romeo walked in with several other doctors. They sat beside me.

"Just say it. It's bad, right?"

"Cadu, I'm sorry. You have paraplegia."

"I'm crippled."

"Paraplegia results from the interruption of nerve signals traveling through the spinal cord, usually due to injuries in the thoracic or lumbar region."

"I want to know if I'll walk again."

"Treatment focuses on rehabilitation and symptom management. Intensive physical therapy is crucial to maintain muscle strength, prevent further injury, and maximize residual mobility. Hydrotherapy helps too. You can walk again, but it takes time, Cadu."

"I'll spend every last cent, but I will walk again."

"We'll arrange everything for you. I'll be with you, brother."

My friends came into the room, giving me their full support. I told Bernardo to get Sarah behind bars. Thomas would be my weapon in that fight.

They left. I spent a month in the hospital. When it was time to go home, my dad showed up with an electric wheelchair. That was my breaking point. But I swallowed every ounce of rage and sat in it.

I powered it up and rode to the car, which my dad had adapted for my exclusive use. My driver took me home. When we arrived, he carried me to my bed.

"We'll hire someone," my dad said.

"I don't want anyone feeling sorry for me, Dad. Just do me one favor — bring my office into my bedroom and set up a rehab center in the room next door. Other than that, I'll manage on my own."

And that's how my days went. Locked in a bedroom. Bath time was a nightmare. My bathroom had been modified, but it was still brutal. I wheeled in and took a fall, smacking my head on the floor. Blacked out.

Berta found me. She started screaming and called Romeo, who came and treated me. I had a miserable headache for two weeks.

Vanessa came to my room twice, pretending to be devastated. I threw her out. She left crying. My dad and she went to the ranch. I knew they couldn't stand watching me spiral anymore.

The physical therapy left me in agony at night. Some nights I didn't sleep at all. I blew up at everyone who tried to help. There were days I didn't want anything — I was drained. I buried myself in work all day, meeting after meeting after meeting.

That was how I channeled my frustration. Bernardo told me Sarah denied every accusation, so I didn't hold back. I went on social media and asked anyone with dashcam footage or security camera video to send it to me. I left my personal secretary's number.

It worked. The emails flooded in with videos. But I only needed one — the one showing Sarah grabbing the wheel and sending us off that bridge.

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