his legs move beneath me. It was subtle, just the slightest twitch, but it was unmistakable. I froze, my heart pounding in disbelief. For a moment, I thought I was imagining things, a trick of the light or a figment of my imagination in the chaos of the moment. But then it happened again, a small movement, enough to confirm my suspicion.
Ethan’s eyes met mine, and for the first time, I saw something other than cold detachment — panic. It was fleeting, quickly replaced by the familiar mask of indifference, but I’d seen it. My mind raced, trying to piece together this new revelation. Why would he pretend to be paralyzed? What truth lay hidden beneath this elaborate façade?
“Ethan,” I whispered, my voice barely audible, “I felt your legs move.”
