“This is absurd,” he muttered, pulling out his phone. “I’m calling security.”
Caleb grabbed his father’s wrist.
“Please,” he said quietly. “Just watch.”
For the first time, the girl spoke.
Her voice was soft but strangely certain.
“Only one drop.”
Before Jonathan could react, she gently tilted the jar.
A thin thread of golden liquid touched Caleb’s lips.
Jonathan rushed forward.
But Caleb had already swallowed.
“What did you give him?!” Jonathan shouted, panic rising in his chest.
Caleb blinked slowly.
Then he looked down at his legs.
“Dad…” he whispered.
Jonathan felt a cold weight settle in his stomach.
“What?”
“I feel something.”
Jonathan stared.
For two years Caleb had felt nothing below his waist.
Nothing.
Now Caleb’s face filled with confusion.
“Like… tiny sparks,” he said quietly. “In my legs.”
Jonathan looked down.
At first nothing happened.
Then—barely noticeable—Caleb’s toes twitched.
A small movement.
So small it could almost be ignored.
But Jonathan had spent two years staring at those motionless feet.
He knew the difference.
They moved.
Jonathan stepped back as if the ground had shifted beneath him.
“That’s impossible…”
The girl carefully closed the jar again, holding it like something precious.