Chapter 7 - THE LITTLE GIRL WHO REFUSED TO GIVE UP
Sofia's rehabilitation continued.
Slowly.
Carefully.
Under the guidance of her medical team.
Some days were good.
She could stand with support.
Shift her weight.
Practice controlled movements.
Other days were difficult.
Her muscles tired quickly.
Pain interrupted sessions.
Frustration made her cry.
I learned not to celebrate every second as though it were a miracle.
Instead, I celebrated her effort.
Her patience.
Her willingness to try again.
One afternoon, Sofia became frustrated.
“I hate this!”
She pushed the therapy ball away.
I sat beside her.
“Want a break?”
She nodded angrily.
We sat in silence.
Then she whispered:
“What if I never walk normally?”
I looked at her.
“Then we'll find other ways for you to do the things you love.”
She frowned.
“But Daddy wants me to walk.”
I shook my head.
“Your daddy wants you to be happy and safe.”
Sofia looked down.
“Vanessa said he'd be proud if I stopped needing help.”
I took her hand.
“Needing help doesn't make you less important.”
She thought about that.
Then smiled faintly.
“Even grown-ups need help?”
I laughed.
“Especially grown-ups.”
That evening, Luca joined us.
Sofia was practicing with her therapist.
She stood between parallel bars.
Her legs trembled.
But she remained upright.
Luca watched silently.
The therapist nodded.
“Good control, Sofia. Let's sit and rest.”
Sofia lowered herself carefully.
Then looked at her father.
“Did you see?”
Luca smiled.
“Every second.”
She grinned.
Later, Luca walked beside me toward the kitchen.
“Emily.”
“Yes?”
“Would you come to dinner with us tomorrow?”
I blinked.
“Dinner?”
He nodded.
“Just Sofia, you, and me.”
I hesitated.
“Sir, I'm your employee.”
He smiled faintly.
“I know.”
I looked at him.
He continued.
“I'm asking as Sofia's father.”
I thought about the little girl upstairs.
Then nodded.
“Okay.”
Luca smiled.
May you like
“Good.”
And for the first time, I wondered whether the distance between us was beginning to disappear.
