“You have twenty-four hours,” Adrian told Lily. “Tomorrow the best neurologist in the city will examine him. If there’s any harm, you’ll never work in this country again.”
Lily nodded. “Deal.”
A silent war followed. Margaret watched from shadows while Lily used every second with Mateo. No machines—just wooden spoons for rhythm. “Tap, tap, boom.” Kneading pizza dough to strengthen his hands. Games. Laughter.
Mateo responded.
The neurologist arrived the next day—skeptical, clinical. After tests and lights, he declared there were no real improvements. “Involuntary spasms,” he said flatly.
Hope dimmed in Adrian’s chest. Margaret smirked.
But Lily crouched in front of Mateo and whispered, “Forget the man in white. It’s just us. Tap, tap, boom.”
She tapped the floor softly.
Mateo lifted his arm.
Not a spasm. Intention.
He raised it high and cried out in triumph.
Adrian wept openly. He dismissed the doctor and asked Lily to stay.
It might have ended there—if not for Margaret.
If medicine couldn’t remove Lily, crime would.