Daniel rushed outside, his expensive loafers clicking against the marble patio. “What is going on here?” he demanded, his voice honed by years of commanding construction crews.
The boy didn’t flinch. His brown eyes were steady. “I’m helping your son, sir. My name is Mateo.”
“Helping? The best doctors in the world couldn’t ‘help’ him,” Daniel snapped. “You’re trespassing, kid.”
“Doctors know the new ways,” Mateo replied calmly, pouring warm water into his basin. “My grandmother knew the old ways. She taught me how to wake up feet that have forgotten how to listen.”
Daniel started to reach for his phone to call security, but a sound stopped him—a raspy, quiet voice he hadn’t heard in weeks.
“Dad… please. Let him try.” Leo was leaning forward, a tiny, dangerous spark of interest flickering in his gaze.
Reluctantly, Daniel stepped back. He watched as Mateo added coarse sea salt to the water. The boy began to move his hands in slow, rhythmic circles around Leo’s right foot, humming a low, ancient melody.
“Do you feel anything?” Mateo whispered.
Leo closed his eyes. After a long minute, he gasped. “It’s… like tiny electric buzzes. Faint, but real.”