Page 5 — The Worst Part Wasn’t The Fall
At the van, Tyler ran up to the window like panic could undo what he’d already done.
“Marcus, please!” he begged. “I’m sorry!”
I rolled the window down two inches.
“You want to know the worst part?” I asked.
He nodded fast, desperate.
“I called you after my surgery,” I said. “Three times. I left voicemails. I sent texts. I invited you to appointments so you could hear it from the doctors.”
His face tightened.
“You never answered,” I continued. “You decided I was lying because it was easier than admitting I was hurt.”
He tried to speak.
I cut it off.
“You didn’t think, Tyler. That’s the problem.”
I rolled the window up.
Dr. Chen pulled out of the driveway.
And we left my brother standing in the exhaust of the consequences he created.
Because here’s the reality people don’t want to face:
Disability doesn’t just expose pain.
It exposes character.
And at that reunion, my doctor didn’t just confirm my injury.
He confirmed something else, too:
What they did wasn’t ignorance. It was cruelty with a crowd.
