Lily hesitated, then nodded slowly.
Emma turned the water on.
The cold stream hit Lily’s legs.
For a moment, nothing happened.
Ethan held his breath, his chest tight, his mind already preparing to dismiss this as foolishness.
Then Lily’s face changed.
Her eyebrows pulled together slightly, her lips parting in confusion.
“I…” she whispered.
Emma leaned closer. “What is it?”
“It feels…” Lily frowned, searching for the words. “Like… like tiny ants. Crawling. Tickling.”
Ethan froze.
“What?” he breathed, stepping closer.
Emma placed her hand gently on Lily’s knee.
“Now,” she said, “I’m going to press a little. Tell me if you feel it.”
She pressed.
Lily gasped.
Her whole body jerked slightly.
“Dad—I felt that!” she cried, her voice breaking with disbelief.
Ethan dropped to his knees beside her so fast it hurt.
“That’s… that’s not possible,” he whispered, his hands hovering near her legs, afraid to touch, afraid to hope.
Emma looked at him, her expression soft now, but certain.
“Sometimes,” she said quietly, “the body doesn’t forget as much as we think it does.”
Tears filled Ethan’s eyes before he could stop them.
For the first time in years, something inside him shifted.
Not certainty.
Not understanding.
Hope.