Dante

I grunted as I tried to reach out for the glass of water on the table beside me. It was only a few inches away, but it felt like miles. My hand trembled as I leaned forward in the wheelchair. The pain in my back shot through my body like a knife. My fingers brushed the glass, but it slipped and rolled off the edge, spilling water all over the floor.

I stared at it for a long moment, my jaw tight. I hated this—this weakness, this helplessness. I could hear the clock ticking, the ...