The Living Corpse
IZZY’S POV
The hospital smelled the same as it always did, clean, sterile, and a little too cold. I stepped inside, my hands gripping the handles of my bag like it could anchor me to reality. My heart was hammering in my chest, and every step toward the elevators felt like it was taking forever.
“Do we really have to go this way?” Matteo asked, walking beside me. He looked calm, as if walking into a hospital was just another day.
“Yes, we do,” I snapped. “He’s my father. I’m going to see him right now.”
Matteo held up his hands. “I’m not stopping you. Just calm down, okay?”
I shot him a glare. “Calm down? You’ve been calm the past three days while I’ve been losing it! Don’t even say that to me.”
He didn’t argue. He just nodded, and we rode the elevator in silence. The quiet was heavy, but I didn’t care. I just needed to get to him.
When the doors opened to the floor where he was, I practically ran down the hallway. Nurses and staff moved past us, giving us polite nods, but I barely noticed them. All I could think about was the moment I’d see him.
We reached his room, and I paused for a second before opening the door. My hand hovered over the handle because I didn’t want to face it yet. But I had to, I squared my shoulders and pushed the door open.
There he was, my father. Sitting in a wheelchair, looking smaller than I remembered. Tubes and monitors surrounded him, his hands resting limply on the armrests. My stomach twisted, and I felt anger flare up instantly.
“No,” I whispered. “No, this isn’t real.”
Matteo followed me in, his eyes scanning the room. “Izzy…”
I ignored him. I took a step closer, studying him. The strong, commanding man I had always known seemed trapped and helpless.
A nurse appeared at the side of the bed. “Good afternoon, Miss Izzy. I’m Nurse Carter. Your father’s just settled in.”
“I need to see him now,” I said firmly, my voice shaking slightly.
“He’s awake,” she said kindly. “But he’s going through a lot. Please approach slowly.”
I shot Matteo at a glance. “Slowly? Slowly? He’s in a chair! He can’t even move without help! Slowly is not an option!”
Matteo put a hand on my arm. “Izzy, listen.”
“No!” I snapped. “No one’s touching me. I’m doing this my way.”
The nurse stepped back, giving me space. “I just wanted to make sure you were ready.”
I didn’t answer. I moved forward, closer to him, and my eyes locked on his face. He looked up slowly, blinking. Recognition came, but it was mixed with frustration.
“Is… Izzy?” His voice was weak.
“Yes, Dad. It’s me.” My own voice cracked. “I’m here.”
His lips twitched, trying to form a smile, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “You came.”
“Of course I came,” I said. “I wasn’t going to sit around while you’re stuck here.”
Matteo cleared his throat. “He’s in a lot of pain, Izzy. Maybe take it easy.”
I ignored him. “How are you feeling?” I asked, stepping closer.
“Like I’m trapped,” he admitted, his voice low. “Everything’s slower. Harder. Nothing I can do on my own.”
I froze for a second. “You can’t move?”
He shook his head slowly. “From the waist down… nothing works. I’m sorry, Izzy.”
I felt my hands ball into fists. “Sorry? Sorry, it doesn't cut it! You’re paralyzed! You can’t..” My voice broke, and I forced myself to breathe. “This isn’t real, this can’t be real.”
He reached up a hand, but it fell limply. “I’m afraid it is.”
I spun toward Matteo. “Why didn’t anyone stop this? Why didn’t anyone tell me this was coming?”
Matteo held up his hands. “Izzy, I tried to prepare you. Durk told you…”
“I didn’t want to hear it from anyone!” I yelled. “I wanted to see him for myself!”
The nurse stepped closer again. “Miss Izzy, please. He needs rest. You can sit with him, but try to stay calm.”
“I’m calm,” I said through gritted teeth. “I just… I just need to see him move. Even a little. Anything.”
“He can’t,” Matteo said softly.
I whipped my head at him. “Can’t? You’re saying he can’t walk? Not even a little? Not even…” My voice trailed off.
“He’s paralyzed,” Matteo said.
I felt my face flush with anger. “Paralyzed? That’s impossible! He’s not like that. He won’t be like that. You’re lying.”
“No one’s lying, Izzy,” Matteo said.
I whirled back to him. “Then show me! I want to see him do something! Anything!”
My father tried to laugh, a weak sound. “Izzy… I can’t. I’m… I’m stuck.”
I stared at him. “You’re stuck? You? The man who’s always done everything himself? Who’s never needed anyone?”
“I know,” he said quietly. “I know. I hate it too.”
“I hate it too!” I shouted. “Do you know how it feels to watch someone like you… like this?”
The nurse put a hand lightly on my shoulder. “Miss Izzy, please, you need to calm down. He can feel your anger.”
I pulled away. “Don’t tell me to calm down. He’s my father!”
Matteo put a hand on my back. “Izzy…”
“I don’t care!” I snapped. “I need him back the way he was. I need him whole! Not like this!”
He reached out his hand again, and I took it, despite myself. “Izzy… I’m still me. Even like this, i can’t walk, yes. But I’m still me.”
I squeezed his hand back, feeling tears burn my eyes. “But you’re not you! You’re… you’re… trapped.”
“I know,” he said quietly. “But I need you to be strong. I need everyone to be strong. I can’t do this alone.”
I drew in a deep breath, letting my anger and tears mix together. “I’m not letting anyone take over. I won’t let the empire crumble. Not if you can’t.”
He gave me a faint smile. “That’s my girl.”
“I don’t care if it’s hard,” I said. “I’ll do whatever it takes. I won’t let this stop us. Stop you.”
“Good,” he said, his voice soft but firm. “Because it’s going to be hard, Izzy. Really hard.”
“I know,” I said, nodding. “And I don’t care. I can handle it.”
We stayed like that for a long time. Just sitting, holding hands. Me, trying to let my fury turn into determination. Him, quiet but watching me, trusting me.
Finally, Matteo cleared his throat. “We should start thinking about what comes next. Hospital support, home arrangements… therapy. One step at a time.”
I shook my head. “No. One step at a time is for later. Right now, I need him to know that I’m not going anywhere. That we’re not giving up.”
The nurse gave a small nod. “That’s important. Motivation is everything.”
“I’m not giving up,” I said firmly. “Ever.”