Part 2: The Truth Beneath the Cast
The doctors leaned in, stunned.
Inside the broken cast… there was no injury.
No swelling.
No bruising.
No damage.
Just clean, healthy skin.
Perfectly normal toes.
The female doctor covered her mouth.
“That’s… impossible…”
The boy pointed.
“Move them.”
The room froze.
No one dared breathe.
Then—
one toe twitched.
A ripple of shock spread through the room.
The old man’s face drained of color. Sweat formed instantly along his forehead.
Another toe moved.
Then all of them.
Perfect control.
Perfect health.
The illusion collapsed in seconds.
The boy stepped closer, his voice quieter now—but sharper.
“So why were you pretending?”
The question hit harder than the stone.
The male doctor, still processing what he was seeing, carefully reached into the broken cast lining.
His fingers paused.
“There’s something inside…”
Slowly, he pulled it out.
A small plastic packet.
Sealed.
Hidden.
The room leaned toward it like gravity had shifted.
“…what is this?” he whispered.
The old man didn’t answer.
Because he already knew.
