— Claire asked.
— For keeping faith alive,” Mrs. Thompson explained. “Not with medicine, but with presence.”
She walked over to the window and looked out at the courtyard.
— “Do you know why the water ritual works?” she asked. “Not because of the chemistry, but because the human spirit is capable of miracles when it truly believes.”
— “You really believe that?” Robert asked.
— “I believe in the hidden reserves we all have,” she replied. “When a patient meets someone who genuinely believes they will recover, the body listens.”
— “And Lily believes?” Claire whispered.
— “She never doubted for a second,” Mrs. Thompson confirmed.
They all looked at Pete, who was sitting up, working on a puzzle. He was still thin, still recovering, but he was alive. And he was getting stronger.
— “What else do you know about that fountain?” Robert asked.
Mrs. Thompson sat down and told them the history of the old estate and the spring. For a hundred years, people had come there when they were sick, and the collective belief in the spring’s power had created a massive community placebo effect. When the hospital was built, the fountain became a symbol of that history.
— “It’s a powerful coincidence,” Dr. Miller said, having walked in mid-conversation. “The hospital was built forty years ago. I doubt the architects were thinking about local legends.”
— “Maybe not,” Mrs. Thompson agreed.
The doctor was about to add something skeptical, but Pete interrupted him.
— “Mrs. Thompson,” the boy called out, “can you tell me a story?”
The old woman smiled.
— “I can, honey. What kind of story do you want?”
