Andrew Lawson tightened his fists the moment he saw the dirty boy approach his son’s wheelchair.
The child’s hands were caked with dried mud, his shirt torn, his hair tangled.
Any normal father would have rushed over to pull his son away.
But something froze Andrew in place.
Maybe it was the expression on Ethan’s face—his nine-year-old blond boy with unfocused blue eyes, blind for as long as he could remember, was smiling.
Andrew hadn’t seen that smile in years.
The muddy boy crouched in front of the wheelchair.
“Hi, I’m Noah. I see you here every day,” he said cheerfully.
Ethan turned toward the sound, searching with sightless eyes.
“My dad brings me to the park. He says the air is good for me.”
“Have you never seen anything?” Noah asked bluntly.
Ethan shook his head. “Never.”
Then Noah lowered his voice, as if sharing an important secret.
“My grandpa had a remedy—special riverbank mud. He cured all kinds of things. If you want, I can put some on your eyes. I’ll try really hard to make you stop being blind.”
Andrew felt the world collapse around him.
Absurd. Ridiculous. Offensive.
He should have picked Ethan up and left immediately.