Eduardo was about to call security when Mateo continued:
“I know how to get your daughter walking again.”
The child’s words echoed in the silent corridor. Eduardo felt a knot form in his chest. How many empty promises had he heard in the last two years? How many charlatans had tried to prey on his despair?
“Listen, kid, I don’t know what kind of joke this is, but…”
“This is no joke, sir,” Mateo interrupted, with a seriousness that was impressive for his age. “Your daughter isn’t walking because she doesn’t want to walk, and I know why.”
Eduardo froze. No doctor had ever spoken of the emotional aspect with such clarity. They all focused solely on examinations, physical treatments, and neurological possibilities.
“What do you mean by ‘she doesn’t want to walk’?” asked Eduardo, now in a lower voice.
Mateo looked around, making sure they were alone in the corridor.
“Can I see her? Just five minutes. If I’m wrong, you call security and I’m gone for good.”
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