No ownership clauses.
No traps.
Only partnership.
Sergei signed with hands still trembling slightly, aware his life had just turned without warning or permission.
The new workshop opened three months later on the outskirts of the city.
People came skeptical.
They left walking.
Athletes with damaged joints.
Factory workers crippled by repetitive strain.
War veterans told nothing more could be done.
Sergei didn’t promise miracles.
He promised effort.
He rebuilt braces, supports, prosthetics, not from theory, but from listening to how bodies tried to compensate.
Anna watched quietly from the background, never interfering, never correcting.
Her funding shielded him from pressure.
Her trust gave him confidence.
News spread slowly, then all at once.
Articles followed.
Interviews.
Awards Sergei never attended.
He stayed in the workshop, sleeves rolled up, eyes narrowed in concentration.
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