The first month of rehabilitation had been grueling. Sukhman Singh, once known for the effortless precision of his racing reflexes and his hard work, now found himself struggling to lift a small bottle of water with his right hand. The shoulder brace had come off after three weeks, but the stiffness remained. The pain was still there too, dull and lingering. But with every passing day, the ache of muscles strained in recovery became familiar, even oddly reassuring. It meant progress.
His physical therapist, Dr. Anjali Mehta, was a gentle but firm woman who didn't believe in shortcuts. "Healing is not linear," she often told him. "Some days will feel like you're flying. Others like you're crawling. But movement is movement."
By the end of the first month, Sukhman could raise his arm to shoulder height. He could tie his shoelaces, brush his teeth with his dominant hand again, and had begun basic resistance training. Each small milestone felt monumental.
---
Month Two: Rebuilding the Foundation
The second month was about rebuilding confidence. Not just in his body, but in his spirit. Sukhman was introduced to a simulator car with motion sensors. It wasn't a real car, but it was the closest he'd felt to it in a long while. He would close his eyes and imagine the roar of engines, the scent of burning rubber, and the press of the G-force against his chest.
He watched recordings of past races with Manpreet, analyzed corners and braking patterns, and even took notes. The doctors were amazed by how quickly he was regaining strength. But for Sukhman, it was more than physical.
"I need to come back smarter," he told Manpreet one night. "Not just stronger."
She nodded. "You've always been smart, Sukhu. You just used to race like your heart was five seconds ahead of your mind. Maybe now they'll sync."
---
Month Three: The Shift
In the third month, Sukhman began light track training in Ludhiana's open stretches. With a local trainer from a biking academy, he practiced controlled acceleration, turns, and short sprints. Though the vehicle was a sports bike, not an F4 or F2 car, the muscle memory was returning. So was the fire.
His physiotherapy sessions were reduced to twice a week. Baljeet Kaur now smiled more and cried less. Harjeet Singh, true to form, built him a simple wooden track simulator stand in the garage and left without saying anything. Sukhman simply patted the frame once and got to work.
Calls from Nandini resumed with more urgency.
"How are you holding up?"
"Ready to fly."
"Good. You'll be needed. Vaayu GP needs more than a pilot. It needs a heartbeat."
---
Month Four: Return to Mumbai
The city skyline welcomed him like an old friend. Mumbai was chaos and comfort, and as the car approached the Vaayu GP headquarters, his heart beat with a strange mix of nostalgia and anticipation.
Nandini met him at the gate. Her eyes lit up.
"You walks like a man on a mission," she grinned.
"Because I am."
The headquarters hadn't changed much physically, but the energy was off. Quiet. Muted. He could feel it the moment he stepped inside. Technicians moved slower. Engineers looked distracted. A few desks were empty.
"What's going on?" he asked.
Nandini sighed. "Yudhvir's arrest shook everything. Sponsors are pulling out. Share prices are dipping. People are questioning if Raghav can lead this team anymore."
They walked through the engineering bay, past engines in mid-disassembly and mechanics with sunken eyes. Screens flickered with simulations and lap times from the last season, some red-flagged. The corridors echoed.
"The team was built on trust," she continued. "When that broke, it wasn't just the press we had to worry about. It was morale. Investors don't believe in Raghav. Not fully."
"But you do?"
"I believe in you," she replied quietly. "And so does he. He thinks your comeback is the only thing that can turn this around."
---
The Principal's Faith
Raghav Satyanarayan stood at the center of the strategy room, surrounded by whiteboards filled with equations and aero diagrams. He looked older, more worn down. But when he saw Sukhman, his expression softened.
"There he is," he said. "The prodigious son has returned."
Sukhman smiled faintly and offered a handshake. Raghav pulled him into a hug instead.
"We need you, Singh. Not just to drive and win. But to show them we're still alive. That we are still a team.... that is.... a family."
Raghav walked him through the latest technical upgrades, the restructured team, and the redesigned vehicle prototypes. Everything had been paused since the scandal. Investors were threatening to withdraw completely unless they saw signs of competitive resurgence.
"They need a face to believe in," Raghav said. "And it's not mine anymore. It's yours, boy."
---
The Reality Check
Later that evening, as Sukhman and Nandini stood on the rooftop helipad of the headquarters, the city lights flickering beneath them, she dropped the final piece of news.
"While you were gone... some of the F2 drivers were promoted to the elite tier."
Sukhman turned his head slowly. "Who?"
"Amar and Tanvi they will race for us next year. So you can take breaks whenever you like. Plus there's a certain Riko from Japan. Heard that she will be the next big thing from. Japan. Triple S has signed her."
He didn't respond right away. His eyes searched the night sky. The ache in his shoulder flared faintly.
"So there's more competition now while I was away, huh?" he said finally.
"There's always competition."
"Good. That means the fire's still alive."
Nandini smiled. "You really think you're ready?"
He looked out over the city, the lights shimmering like a race track from the sky.
"No," he said. "I don't think I'm ready. But I am ready to face the challenge at least."