“Kid, you lost? Or are you the new ‘patient entertainment service’ the hospital hired? Get out. I’m not in the mood.”
Jamal didn’t reply. He walked straight to the bedside, pulled over a small stool, and calmly sat down. His eyes fixed on the suspended leg.
Alexander smirked, voice dripping with sarcasm:
“What are you staring at? Want money? Fine. I’ll bet you one million dollars. If you can make even one toe on this leg move in the next five minutes, I’ll transfer it to you right now. Otherwise, get lost and stop wasting my time.”
The boy stayed silent. From the cloth bag, Jamal took out a small black stone—smooth, glossy, with strange vein-like patterns that looked almost like dried blood vessels. He placed the stone in his palm, then gently laid his entire hand just below the knee of the suspended leg.
The air in the room suddenly felt heavy. The heart monitor began to speed up slightly. Alexander frowned:
“What the hell are you doing? Get your hand off me, I don’t like—”
His words cut off.