It started as a dull ache in his legs, something Alexander hadn’t felt in years. He was accustomed to the numb cold that had settled in his lower body since the accident. But this was a pulsing, throbbing sensation, as though his muscles were awakening from a long, deep slumber.

He tossed in bed, unable to get comfortable. Sweat pooled at his temples as the pain intensified, each wave crashing with more force. He wanted to call his doctor, but something stopped him. A part of him wanted to let this sensation play out, to see if there was any truth in the boy’s mysterious promise.

As the night dragged on, Alexander finally succumbed to a fitful sleep, visions of the boy’s makeshift ritual playing over in his mind like a haunting melody. He awoke the next morning drenched in sweat, the pain having subsided to a strange tingling that crept up his legs and settled in his spine.

He pushed himself upright, realizing he hadn’t needed to use the bed’s mechanical assist. His heart raced. Could it be? Was it possible? Doubt gnawed at him until an unfamiliar determination took over.

He braced himself and swung his legs over the side of the bed. They felt solid, connected—no longer foreign appendages. Taking a deep breath, he placed one foot on the floor, then the other. His heart pounded in his chest like a war drum. Gripping the bedpost, he pulled himself up. His legs trembled beneath him, but they held. He was standing.

For a moment, he just stood there, basking in the simple miracle of it. Tears pricked his eyes—tears of disbelief, gratitude, and awe. He took a tentative step, then another. His muscles protested slightly, but they obeyed.

He made it to the window, tears streaming down his face as he looked out over the cityscape. The world seemed different now, full of possibilities and wonder. He turned back to his bed, his mind racing with thoughts of the boy.

He had dismissed the child as a mere distraction, a naive interloper. But now, Alexander realized that Luke had offered him something invaluable—hope. And he had delivered on his promise.

The next day, Alexander found himself back at the park, scanning the sea of children’s faces. It didn’t take long to spot Luke, who was surrounded by a gaggle of kids, orchestrating another game of make-believe.

Alexander approached him, and the children scattered, casting curious glances back at the billionaire who could now walk. Luke looked up, his face breaking into a wide grin.

“You’re walking!” Luke exclaimed, not a trace of surprise in his voice.

Alexander nodded, struggling to find his voice. “I owe you something,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “A deal’s a deal.”

Luke shrugged, his eyes wise beyond his years. “It wasn’t about the money, you know. Sometimes believing is more powerful than anything else.”

Alexander laughed, a sound that felt strange but wonderful. “You’re a remarkable kid,” he said. “And a deal’s a deal. Consider it an investment—in whatever you choose to do.”

As he walked away, Alexander felt lighter than he had in years. He realized that the true miracle wasn’t just his newfound ability to walk, but the awakening of a long-dormant part of himself—the belief in things unseen, and the courage to embrace the impossible.