“Sir, I Can Make Your Daughter Walk Again” – Said the Beggar Boy! The Millionaire Turned and FROZE

The sun had broken through the clouds, but the cold was still sharp. He walked toward the car, cradling Isla as usual, when he noticed Zeke again. Still there.

Same box. Same notebook. Except this time, he was looking right at Jonathan like he knew he’d come back.

Jonathan hesitated. He glanced at Isla. Her rested on his shoulder.

Eyes closed. Her body was light. Too light for a kid her age.

He turned. Are you again? He muttered, walking over. Why would you say something like that? Do you think this is funny? Zeke shook his head slowly.

No, sir. You don’t even know her. Jonathan snapped, lowering Isla gently into the back seat.

You don’t know what she’s been through. You don’t know what we’ve been through. Zeke didn’t back down.

I don’t have to know her to help. Jonathan straightened up. You’re what, nine? Almost ten.

Exactly. You’re a little boy sitting outside a hospital with duct tape on your shoes. What could you possibly know about helping someone like my daughter? Zeke looked down, his fingers tracing the edge of his notebook.

My mama used to help people walk again, he said quietly. She was a physical therapist. She taught me stuff.

She said the body remembers things, even when it forgets for a while. Jonathan stared at him, the skepticism hardening in his chest. So what, you watched her do some stretches and now you think you’re a doctor? I watched her help a man walk after being in a chair for five years, Zeke said, eyes lifting.

She didn’t have machines or nurses, just her hands, her patience and faith. Jonathan opened his mouth to speak, then stopped. He glanced around.

A nurse passed by, giving Zeke a small wave. A janitor from the hospital nodded in the boy’s direction. They all seemed to know him.

I’m not giving you money, Jonathan said. I didn’t ask for money. Then what do you want? Zeke took a deep breath and stepped forward.

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