He pulled the bottle away and pressed the call button.
“What are you doing? Get out of here!”

Ethan coughed lightly… and kept sleeping.

The girl reached for the bottle again, desperate.
“He needs it,” she insisted. “It’s special water.”

Nurses rushed in. From the hallway, a woman’s voice cried out.

“Lily! What did you do?”

A janitor in her thirties hurried in, panic in her eyes.

“I’m so sorry,” she said, pulling the girl close. “I’m Ana. She’s my daughter. She shouldn’t be here.”

“Wait,” Michael said slowly. “How does your daughter know my son’s name?”

Ana froze.

“I… I work here. She might have seen—”

“No,” Lily interrupted. “I know him. We played together at Miss Ruth’s kindergarten. He’s my friend.”

Michael felt a sharp удар in his chest.

“My son never went to kindergarten,” he whispered.

“Yes, he did,” Lily said simply. “We played hide-and-seek. He laughed a lot.”

Ana grabbed Lily’s hand and rushed out.

Michael stared at the bottle. Clear water. No smell. Nothing special.

And yet… the girl’s certainty stayed with him.

That afternoon, Michael called Nina, Ethan’s nanny.

“Tell me the truth,” he said. “Did you take him to a kindergarten?”

A long silence.

“Only twice a week,” Nina admitted. “He was lonely. He was happy there.”

The kindergarten was in Eastwood, a poor neighborhood Michael had never set foot in.

That night, Michael didn’t leave the hospital. Near midnight, he woke to a whisper.

Lily was back.

She wasn’t pouring water this time—just holding Ethan’s hand, murmuring softly.

“You shouldn’t be here,” Michael said weakly.

“He needs me,” she replied.

She pointed at Ethan’s face.

Michael looked—and his heart tightened. Ethan looked… slightly less gray.

“What kind of water is that?” Michael asked.

“From the courtyard fountain,” Lily said. “My grandma says there used to be a well there. Sick people came for it.”

“That’s just a story,” Michael muttered.

Lily tilted her head.
“You believe doctors, right?”

“Yes.”

“They said they can’t help anymore. So why not believe the water too?”

Michael had no answer.

A nurse, Emma, entered and paused when she saw Lily.

“Mr. Bennett,” she said quietly, “I shouldn’t say this, but… after the girl came earlier, Ethan’s oxygen levels improved slightly. Very little—but it stabilized.”

A dangerous spark lit inside Michael.

Lily stayed a few more minutes. She told Ethan stories about kindergarten, about how he always laughed during nap time.

At dawn, she left.