The sun hung high over Oakridge Manor, turning the pristine white limestone facade into a blinding sheet of light.

By the spring of the following year, the Mara Vance Foundation had expanded into three international branches—Zurich, Seattle, and Tokyo. Over eight hundred amputees had passed through our doors, receiving state-of-the-art neural prosthetics, physical therapy, and psychological support free of charge.

Sadie’s seventh birthday was approaching.

Unlike the terrifying, grand circus Nolan had arranged at Oakridge Manor three years ago, this celebration was small, intimate, and held at our own estate in Saint Helena.

The lawn was decorated with bright colorful balloons, a large wooden ice-cream cart, and a miniature obstacle course designed by Dr. Caleb Vance for Sadie and her school friends.

My father sat on the veranda, holding a fresh cup of tea, watching Sadie lead a troupe of five children through the grassy course. Beside him sat Dr. Aris Thorne, who flew in from Switzerland every six months for routine diagnostic checks on my neural link.

Caleb stepped up beside me near the rose garden, holding two glasses of sparkling apple cider.

"She’s got your competitive spirit," Caleb said, nodding toward Sadie, who was currently vaulting over a tiny foam hurdle with pure delight.

"She’s got her mother’s spirit," I smiled, taking the glass from his hand.

Caleb looked at me, his warm brown eyes filled with a gentle, steady affection that had grown naturally over two years of working side-by-side at the foundation. There was no pressure, no performance, no hidden agenda—just mutual respect, deep understanding, and quiet love.

"Mara," Caleb said softly, pulling a small wooden box from his jacket pocket.

I looked at him, my heart skipping a steady, calm beat.

He opened the box. Inside lay a simple, elegant platinum band inlaid with a thin strip of polished black titanium—matching the exact material of my limb.

"I know you spent years trapped in a cage built by a man who pretended to love you," Caleb said, his voice quiet and deeply sincere. "I don't want to lock you in anything, Mara. I just want to walk beside you—wherever your legs take you."

I looked at the ring, then up into his clear, honest eyes.

I didn't feel the phantom fear that used to tighten my chest whenever a man stepped too close. The old scars were just faint white lines now.

"Put it on my finger, Caleb," I said softly.

He slid the ring onto my left hand. It fit perfectly.

Sadie came running across the lawn, her pink party dress fluttered in the breeze, her cheeks bright red from running. She skidded to a halt beside us, looking down at the shiny ring on my hand, then up at Caleb, a huge grin bursting across her face.

"Is Caleb going to live with us now, Mommy?" Sadie asked innocently.

"If that's okay with you, little superhero," Caleb smiled, kneeling down to her eye level.