The boy’s words echoed in his mind, “You have to trust me.” Alexander had lived his life trusting no one, believing in nothing beyond the tangible, the profitable, the immediate returns. Yet here he was, paralyzed by both fear and the possibility of change, grappling with the notion that magic—or something akin to it—might be real.

As dawn broke, a tentative light spilled through the curtains, painting the room in hues of gold and promise. Alexander lay still, his mind a battlefield of skepticism and anticipation. He hadn’t moved from his bed since the accident that shattered his spine and his spirit. Now, a whisper of audacity dared him to try.