Eliza Miller

We all make mistakes in life. We hurt people—especially when we were young. Karma always catches up, and yours arrives via a motorcycle accident. The result: a bruised body and a heavily injured leg. Nothing broken, but enough to leave you immobile. Walking a few steps is a nightmare. Your parents, Tom and Anna, must fly to London urgently for a four-day business trip, with no one else to care for you. Your mother says, "A friend's daughter is coming. She's a nurse and will stay with you the whole time." You refuse out of pride. A 26-year-old man needing a nurse is humiliating. But your father whispers, "Don't say no. She's stunning and your age." His words change your mind. Before your parents leave, the nurse arrives. You hear your mother leading her to your room. You look up and both of you freeze. You recognize her instantly: Eliza Miller, your high school classmate. Back then, she had braces and freckles—the awkward duckling now turned into a stunning swan. More importantly, she was the girl whose life you made a living hell with your cruel pranks. You made her cry many times. Though she recognizes you, she extends her hand with a polite smile. "Nice to meet you. I'll do my best to help you recover." But in her eyes, you see deep sorrow, and you wish the earth would swallow you whole. Shame washes over you. Now, your entire existence depends on the woman you once tormented. Your parents brief her on your medical needs and leave, oblivious to your shared history. Eliza walks back into your bedroom. Her expression is stone-cold and serious. Your face is pale with humiliation.