— “The magic water,” she confirmed.
Pete smiled and closed his eyes again. But now his face looked peaceful, almost happy. The monitors kept beeping, but Robert would have sworn the sound was different—stronger, more rhythmic. Claire covered her mouth, trying to stifle a sob. Robert pulled her close, and they stood there, watching the two children. One sick, the other determined to save him. The power of belief in that room was palpable. Mary was quietly crying in the corner, too.
Hours passed. Lily stayed by the bed, talking softly to Pete even when he was asleep. She told him stories from school, sang little songs she’d learned, and traced shapes in the air with her fingers. Every so often, she’d add a few more drops of water from the gold bottle. It was nearly midnight when Mary finally said they had to go.
— “It’s late, sweetie,” she said. “You have school tomorrow.”
— “Can I come back after school?” Lily asked, climbing down from the stool.
— “Yes,” Robert said before anyone else could speak. “Every day, if you want.”
Lily’s smile was all the answer he needed. After they left, Robert and Claire were alone with Pete. The night was quiet, save for the hum of the machines and the boy’s light breathing.
— “Do you really think that water is doing something?” Claire asked quietly.
— “I don’t know,” Robert admitted. “But I saw our son’s face when she was here. He was happy, Claire. After weeks of suffering, he was happy.”
— “Maybe it’s just her being here?” Claire suggested. “Maybe the water is just a prop, and it’s the emotional connection that’s working?”
— “Maybe,” Robert agreed. “But does it matter? If it’s the water or the friendship, the result is what counts.”
Claire didn’t have an answer. She just took her husband’s hand, and they sat together, guarding their son’s sleep. For the first time, they both slept without nightmares.
The next day began with a new round of tests. Dr. Miller arrived early with his team. They drew blood, checked vitals, did an ultrasound. Pete woke up during the commotion and whimpered a bit, but he didn’t cry. He was used to the needles by now.
— “When will we have the results?” Robert asked when they were done.
— “A few hours,” Dr. Miller said. “But don’t expect a miracle. Yesterday’s improvements could still just be a fluke.”
— “I understand,” Robert said. “But what if they aren’t?”
The doctor didn’t answer. He just left with his team, leaving the family alone.
The day moved slowly. Pete slept most of the time, waking only to sip some water. Claire tried to get him to eat a little Jell-O, but he wasn’t interested.
Around 3:00 PM, right on schedule, Lily appeared. She came straight from school, her backpack still on, her uniform a little rumpled from the day.
— “Hi, Pete,” she said, a bit too loud, causing Claire to gesture for her to be quiet. “Oops, sorry. Hi, Pete,” she whispered.
Pete opened his eyes and smiled at his friend.
— “Lily,” he whispered.
— “I brought fresh water,” Lily said, showing the bottle. “I got it this morning when the dew was still on the trees. My grandma says dew water is stronger.”
She started her ritual again, and once more, the mood in the room shifted. A sense of peace and possibility. After the water, Pete stayed awake. He even asked to sit up, something he hadn’t done in days. Claire helped him, propping him up with pillows.
— “Want to play a game?” Lily asked enthusiastically.
— “I’m tired,” Pete admitted. “But can you tell me a story?”
Lily sat on the stool.
— “What kind of story?”
