Chapter 5: Unraveling the Web
In the darkest hours of the night, fueled by black coffee and sheer desperation, Derrick finally found it.
Deep within an obscure, peer-reviewed medical journal from a bio-engineering institute in Switzerland, he found a theoretical paper on "Neural-Bridging Mesh." It was an experimental, nanotechnology-infused polymer designed to act as a scaffolding for severed spinal nerves, allowing electrical signals to bypass crushed vertebrae. It had only been tested on animals, and the FDA had yet to approve human trials in the States.
Derrick immediately called Martha. “I need you to leverage every political and financial contact Lane Tech has. Get the Swiss researchers on a private jet to New Orleans by tomorrow morning. We are pushing for an emergency compassionate-use exemption.”
Martha didn't hesitate. “Consider it done.”
The hospital board was furious. Dr. Aris vehemently opposed the experimental surgery, calling Derrick a reckless kid playing God. “You’re letting your emotions cloud your medical judgment, Dr. Moore! If this mesh fails, it could trigger a catastrophic immune response and kill her!”
Derrick stood his ground in the hospital boardroom, facing down a dozen men twice his age. “And if we do nothing, she remains trapped in her own body for the rest of her life! Victoria Lane is a fighter. She doesn't do 'safe.' She takes risks. I know her better than anyone in this room, and I know she would consent to this!”
It took a frantic legal battle, emergency injunctions, and millions of dollars in liability waivers, but seventy-two hours later, the Swiss medical team arrived. They brought the neural-bridging mesh in a cryogenic case.
The surgery took eighteen agonizing hours. Derrick was permitted in the observation deck, watching through the glass as the microscopic mesh was carefully woven into Victoria’s damaged spinal cord. Every drop of blood, every beep of the monitor sent spikes of terror through his chest. If he was wrong, he would be the one responsible for ending her life.
When the surgery finally ended, the lead Swiss surgeon gave Derrick a tired, uncertain nod through the glass. The mesh was in. Now, all they could do was wait.
For two agonizing weeks, Victoria remained in a coma. The media camped outside the hospital, predicting the imminent collapse of Lane Tech Innovations. Derrick sat by her side every single day, holding her hand, doing passive range-of-motion exercises on her legs just to keep the muscles from atrophying, talking to her even though she couldn't respond.
“You can’t quit on me now, Victoria,” Derrick whispered one rainy afternoon, his voice cracking. “I still owe you for that lunch.”
Suddenly, the heart monitor’s rhythm hitched.
Derrick froze.
Victoria’s fingers—cold and pale—twitched against his palm.
Derrick’s breath caught in his throat. “Victoria?”
Slowly, painfully, her eyelids fluttered open. She blinked against the harsh fluorescent lights, her gaze drifting until she found Derrick’s face. She couldn't speak around the breathing tube, but her eyes were alert. They were alive.
Derrick grabbed a reflex hammer from his pocket. His hands were shaking so violently he almost dropped it. He pulled back the blanket, exposing her right foot. He dragged the blunt end of the hammer gently across the bottom of her foot.
For a terrifying second, nothing happened.
May you like
Then, her toes curled inward. Her ankle flexed.
A choked sob escaped Derrick’s lips. The neural bridge was working. The signals were passing through the mesh. She was going to walk again.
