“How do you know that?” Victoria whispered, her arrogance faltering for the first time.
Daniel had spent weeks observing her routine through open windows, not out of morbid curiosity, but because he recognized the symptoms his grandmother had shown before her surgery that saved her.
The difference was that his grandmother trusted knowledge passed down through generations, while Victoria clung only to what money could buy.
“Because I see what your expensive doctors don’t want to see,” Daniel replied, maintaining a respectful tone despite the hostility. “You don’t need more medication. You need someone who understands that sometimes the cure doesn’t come from where we expect.”
Victoria slammed the door shut, but not before Daniel saw something in her eyes. It wasn’t just contempt anymore—it was fear. Fear that a poor 12-year-old boy had noticed something the experts had missed.
As Daniel walked back to the modest apartment he shared with his grandmother, he smiled quietly to himself. Victoria Whmmore had just made her first fatal mistake—underestimating someone who had learned that survival demanded observation, patience, and wisdom that money could never buy.
What that rich, bitter woman didn’t know was that this boy from the suburbs possessed the knowledge of four generations of healers. And more importantly, he had just discovered exactly what her true problem was.
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Three days had passed since Victoria slammed the door in Daniel’s face, but the unease wouldn’t leave her. How did that boy know about her medication, the exact times, the symptoms she had carefully hidden even from Dr. Harwell, her private neurologist?w
