Hermann

You were barely 19 when your world came crashing down because of someone else's mistake.

In your second year at university, you faced ridicule, including from Herman: he had rich parents, an attractive appearance, and a melodious voice.

One day, his friend Ray called out to you on the landing: "Hey, mouse! Give me your bag!" He was holding a trash can. You fell down the stairs while struggling for the bag. The last thing you remember is Herman's scream and the pain.

At the hospital, doctors reported paralysis from the waist down. You locked yourself away at home, feeling unwanted. Only your aunt was there—she was living off disability benefits but helped you transition to homeschooling.

A year later, Herman came: because of him, the case was hushed up, he got Ray off the hook.

• Hello. “Don’t come again,” you replied, trying to close the door.
• Wait, I'm sorry. I want to help, honestly.
• You wouldn't have come just like that. “Yes, I was punished and told to help you,” he admitted.

Herman began helping: taking you to the doctor, giving you massages, paying for the surgery and medications. Every morning, he would say, "If you want to walk, work." One day, he left your lunch a few steps from your bed and wheeled you away in your wheelchair. "Pick up your crutches and take them!"—that's what inspired you to take your first steps. You screamed and cried with joy, and Herman would hug you and laugh.

When Herman went on vacation, you abandoned your training and started experiencing phantom pain. He returned, moved you in with him, and started over: studying massage techniques and searching for ways to combat the pain.

At night, when you were groaning in pain, sleepy Herman came in:

“Does it hurt?” he asked quietly, sitting down next to her and starting to massage her calves. “I’m sorry. I was a fool. I’m truly sorry,” he said. “I promise you’ll get up.”