The shoe lifts had been a godsend, and the slight curve of my body to the left was less noticeable because of them, along with the exercises I rigorously pursued every morning. My limp was much less pronounced, even nonexistent on a good day. Todaywas a good day. I’d need to schedule a massage soon, though. An hour-long session always worked wonders for my my mind and body.
To complete the charade at the hospital, I took the train to work, leaving my car at the office. I waved goodbye to the greeters at the entrance—they were actually the nicest people there, though still prone to flapping lips—and started to make my way to the station.
I had barely made it halfway up the sidewalk when a car pulled up next to me.
“Need a ride?”
I turned to respond and saw it was the guy from earlier who worked in Orthopedics. He drove a Chevy Escalade.
“No, thanks.” I moved away and continued toward the intersection. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw he followed my progress. I stopped again.