Ryan let out a hollow laugh, the kind that held no humor at all.
“I wish it hurt,” he muttered. “I don’t feel anything. That’s the problem.”
Noah studied him quietly, his expression far too thoughtful for someone so young.
“My mom says people aren’t really broken unless God says so,” he said.
Ryan frowned, a flicker of something—frustration, maybe—crossing his face.
“God?” he repeated. “I’ve spent millions looking for answers. There’s no miracle waiting for me.”
There was a pause.
Then, almost without thinking, Ryan leaned forward slightly, his voice lowering.
“But if you could fix me… if you could make me walk again… I’d give you everything I own.”
It sounded absurd the moment he said it.
But Noah didn’t laugh.
He didn’t hesitate.
Instead, the boy walked closer, then slowly knelt in front of him. His small hand rested gently on Ryan’s knee, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
“Can I pray for you?” he asked softly.
Ryan exhaled, tired… defeated… but strangely unable to say no.
“Go ahead.”
Noah closed his eyes.
His voice was quiet, simple, unpolished—but every word carried something pure.
“God… please help Mr. Ryan. He’s really sad. He has a lot, but he can’t walk. The doctors say it can’t happen… but you made everything. So please… help him stand again. Amen.”
For a second, nothing happened.
Just silence.
And then—
A strange warmth spread through Ryan’s legs.
At first, it was so faint he thought he imagined it.
But then it grew stronger.
A tingling. Sharp. Alive.
It shot upward through his spine like a sudden current.
His breath caught.
“Wait…” he whispered, his voice trembling.
His legs twitched.
Not imagined.
Not a reflex.
Real.
“Ah—!” The sound escaped him before he could stop it.
Footsteps rushed toward them.
“Ryan! What’s going on?!” a woman’s voice called out, filled with panic.
It was Noah’s mother—Grace—her face pale as she took in the scene.
“Noah, what did you do?” she said quickly, moving forward. “I’m so sorry, sir—”
“Don’t—” Ryan cut her off, his voice shaking. “Don’t touch me.”
He was staring down.
His toe moved.
Just slightly.
But it moved.
His entire body began to shake as adrenaline surged through him.
“Help me,” he said, his voice barely controlled.
Grace hesitated for a second, then stepped in carefully, supporting one side while Noah stood close, his small hands steady despite everything.
Ryan pushed himself upward.