It was a man seated in a wheelchair, his lower visage was concealed by a mask but his eyes were searingly cold.
Even wheelchair ridden, he carried himself with all the power of an emperor looking down at a disloyal subject in contempt.
“Dear?” Jane blurted out. She pushed back her seat and crossed the room, squatting down in front of him.
“What are you doing here? Where’s Bruce?”
Ethan stroked her head.
“My wife is being mistreated, how could I not come?”
Her money was meant for his treatment — he wouldn’t let anyone take it from her.
“It’s nothing”, she insisted helplessly, “I can handle it”.
“Even so, I can’t just leave you like this”.
She had no choice but to push him in.
The professor studied the newcomer; a cripple, hiding who knows what under his mask.
“Jane beat up and
