My Family Forced Me to Become a Maid at 17—But Every Night, I Secretly Entered the Millionaire’s Son’s Room

Your fingers shake as you fasten the brace. Alejandro grips the armrests of his wheelchair so tightly his knuckles turn white. His jaw clenches, and sweat appears along his hairline before you even touch the second brace.

“Does it hurt?” you whisper.

“Everything hurts,” he says.

You pause.

He looks away.