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.
One evening, Anna visited alone.
No entourage.
No assistants.
Just her and the quiet hum of machinery.
“You still live in that apartment,” she observed gently.
Sergei nodded.
“I don’t need more.”
She accepted that answer without comment.
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