Winners by Danielle Steel

confirmed that to him. “I’m never going to get out of this chair again, am I?” Lily asked her bluntly. She had suspected it from everything that had been said, but her father kept telling her otherwise, with incredible determination, and he had never lied to her before. It was confusing her now, and Jessie could see it. Lily was more ready to face the truth than her father was.
    “There’s a lot of research in this area,” Jessie said. “Spinal cord injuries are of interest to a lot of people. And stem cell research has given everyone a lot of hope.” Lily’s eyes were boring into hers. She didn’t want to hear about the research, Jessie knew—she wanted to hear the truth from her. Jessie’s voice was serious when she spoke. “For now, yes, this is it. They’re going to teach you a lot of ways to deal with it and improve your skills at Craig.”
    Lily had a powerful lower body from skiing. Now they were going to strengthen her upper body, so she could use her arms in new ways, to guide her wheelchair, or help herself. Her father had ordered her a state-of-the-art feather-light wheelchair for their trip. It was one of the best ones made. And Jennifer would be there to help her.
    “Lily, there’s no reason why you can’t lead an amazing life from now on. Not just a good life, an amazing one. I really mean that, and I believe you will. I’m not telling you it will be easy at first, and it’s a big adjustment, but you can do this. New doors are going to open up to you, which you don’t expect now. You may not be able to win the gold at the Olympics, and in fact you can’t, but you can win the gold in your life, which matters more. You’re a winner, Lily, I know you are. You just have to hang on for the ride now, and see where this takes you.” Lily nodded, with tears in her eyes.
    “My father keeps saying I’m going to walk again, and I know I won’t. He doesn’t want to believe that,” she said, as the tears spilled onto her cheeks. She had a lot to face now, and all of it from a wheelchair, forever. It was overwhelming for a seventeen-year-old, or anyone, and Jessie respected her enormously for trying, and in some ways being more mature than her father.
    “He loves you very much,” Jessie said quietly, trying to explain the agonies of parenthood to her in a few words, but Lily understood that herself.
    “I know. You don’t think I’ll walk again, do you?” she asked Jessie, who couldn’t lie to her. She hadn’t yet, but she had avoided the obvious as much as possible, at the request of Lily’s father.
    “No, I don’t. Unless the research they’re doing now changes something,” she said again. It was the best she could offer, and had been from the beginning, given the location and extent of Lily’s injury.
    “Then why is my dad taking me to all those doctors all over the world?” She wasn’t looking forward to being poked and prodded by four more doctors. She trusted Jessie, even if her father didn’t, and she knew she was right. She had sensed it all along. Her legs were too dead to ever come alive again, no matter what her father said.
    “Because he’s hoping that I’m wrong. I’m not sure I blame him. I’d probably do the same if it were one of my kids. It’s always good to get other opinions and learn something more.” She tried to be respectful of what Bill was doing, at least to his daughter, although as Lily’s physician and surgeon she would have preferred to see her go straight to Craig and start rehab, and not wear herself out traveling. But they were doing it in optimal conditions, so she had no serious medical objections, just philosophical ones. And she would have hated to see Lily cling to a hope that wasn’t real. But Jessie could tell now that she wasn’t, only Bill was, and he wasn’t Jessie’s patient. His refusal to face the truth was something he would have to deal with himself. Jessie knew that the doctors and physical therapists at Craig would do