Evan Roth stopped just inside the doorway of the therapy room, his body reacting before his mind could form a single coherent thought. His briefcase slipped from his hand and landed against the wall with a dull sound he barely registered. The wheelchairs that usually framed the space like silent sentries stood empty near the window, pushed aside as if they no longer belonged there. On the padded floor, his twin sons sat cross legged, their thin legs extended in front of them, while Rachel Monroe knelt nearby, her hands resting lightly against their calves as she spoke to them in a voice so calm it felt almost unreal.