I could feel the chill of the metal wheelchair against my skin, as if the cold steel were searing my palms. Edgar trudged along, his steps heavy yet measured, pushing me toward the little stone cottage nestled in the Cotswolds. The door creaked open, and a faint scent of pine resin and old hearth smoke drifted out.
Here youll stay, he said quietly, never meeting my eyes. Theres firewood, spring water, and simple food.
I could not answer. Every breath seemed to catch in my throat.
Is Richard here? I whispered.
He wont be back soon, Edgar replied flatly. He says its too hard for him to watch your condition.
And then I snapped.
It isnt my illness thats heavyits his conscience! How could he how could he abandon me here?
Edgar shifted uncomfortably, shrugged, and said, I dont know. People do foolish things for money or peace of mind. Im paid to look after you. Thats all.
And he left me alone.
Days slipped by in a sluggish rhythm. The fires warmth barely reached the far corners of the room, and the nights seemed endless. Each morning Edgar arrived with a pot of herbal tea, a slice of bread, and a few vegetables. He was a quiet man, but there was a gentleness in his eyes that I hadnt seen in anyone for a long time.
Sometimes, as he fed me, his rough hands trembled.
Do you think you might still walk? he asked once.
The doctors said no. My spine is ruined, I replied.
He shook his head slowly, as if unwilling to believe it.
One evening, while the wind sang through the trees, Edgar lit the gas lamp and settled beside it.
You know, Ethel, your father used to come here sometimes. He bought firewood from me. I respected hima decent bloke, he was.
My heart tightened. I missed my fathers voice, the one that always soothed me. If he were alive, hed never have let Richard treat me like this.
Edgar, if I wanted to get out of here would you help me? I whispered.
He stared at me for a long moment, then answered, Yes. But I cant say where youd go.
One bright morning Richard reappeared, his expensive suit looking absurd against the damp woodland.
How are you feeling? he asked with a forced smile.
I miss the fresh air of Switzerland, I retorted, my tone bitterly ironic.
He cleared his throat. I need your signature on some papers for the hotel. You have to understand.
In that instant everything clicked. It had never been about care; it was about my inheritance. Richard wanted to claim everything, and I was the obstacle.
I wont sign a thing, I said softly, but firmly.
His eyes went cold. Then youll stay here until you change your mind.
And he walked away without looking back.
When he vanished, Edgar placed a hand on my shoulder. You dont deserve that. Your father would have told you to fight.
But how? I cant walk.
Your legs arent everything. Youve got a mind, a will. And there are people who will stand by you.
That night I didnt close my eyes. The next morning Edgar brought me an old telephone.
Use it. Call whoever you need. Ill help you get to town.
With trembling fingers I dialed Martha, my longtime nanny. The moment I heard her voice, I broke down in tears.
Martha, Richard left me in the woods. I want to fight. I want my life back.
A few days later Martha arrived in a minibus. With Edgars help they lifted me and drove straight to the family solicitors office in London.
Richard swaggered into the notarys room, confident that everything was under his control. When he saw me there, wheelchairbound but with fire in my eyes, he froze.
Thought you could hide in the woods forever? I said coldly. No, Richard. Im my fathers daughter, and Ill fight.
The solicitor handed over the documents. Richard tried to object, but the evidence was clear: he wanted me declared incompetent to seize the estate.
The case dragged on for months. In the end the judge ruled in my favour. The inheritance stayed with me, and Richard was not only stripped of his claim but also cast out of my life.
One afternoon I stood by the window, watching the city sparkle under the sun, feeling a fresh strength rise within me. Edgar was now the official manager of the estate, and Martha sat beside me once more.
You know whats odd? I turned to Edgar. I thought my life ended in that chair. Yet here its beginning again.
He gave a shy smile. Sometimes the woods arent an ending. Theyre just the start of a new road.
And for me, that road was just opening up.
