As they gently placed a neck brace on me and prepared me for transport, I caught a glimpse of Jason, standing back with his arms crossed, his expression a mix of irritation and discomfort. Maybe he hadn’t meant for things to go this far. Maybe the oil was just another prank that had spiraled out of control. But in that moment, it didn’t matter. What mattered was getting answers.

The ambulance ride was a blur of flashing lights and the steady beeping of medical equipment. When we arrived at the hospital, I was wheeled into an MRI room almost immediately, the urgency of the situation finally cutting through the fog of disbelief that had surrounded me since the fall.

Lying still as the machine clattered and whirred around me, I tried to focus on my breathing, to anchor myself in the present. I was so afraid of what the results might reveal, yet more afraid of not knowing at all.