The rooftop fell completely silent.
The man looked down at his leg. The confidence was gone, replaced by fear.
“What did you do?” he whispered.
The boy kept one hand resting on the wheelchair’s metal footrest.
“Nothing,” he said softly. “I only made you feel what was already there.”
A woman nearby covered her mouth in shock.
The man carefully tried to move his foot.
It twitched.
Just once.
That single movement made every guest lean in.
His eyes filled with tears.
“I haven’t felt that in eight years.”
The boy met his gaze with quiet sadness.
“My mother said you were never broken.”
The man froze.
“Who is your mother?”
The boy reached into his pocket and took out a folded hospital report.
The man accepted it with trembling hands.
His own name was printed on the document.
So was a medication he had never known about.
The boy lowered his voice.
“She worked in your house. She said someone was keeping you weak.”
The man slowly turned toward the woman sitting beside his wheelchair.
His wife’s face had turned pale.
The boy continued, his eyes beginning to glisten.
“She tried to warn you. Then she disappeared.”
The man’s voice trembled.
“What was her name?”
The boy swallowed.
“Anna.”
The wine glass slipped from the man’s hand and shattered across the rooftop floor.
Anna was the nurse he had been told betrayed him.
Anna was the woman he had once loved.
And the boy standing beside his wheelchair had her eyes.
