“What are you supposed to be?” he sneered.

The boy said nothing.

Then he swung the stone straight into the cast.

CRACK.

Plaster exploded across the luxury floor. The doctors jumped back in shock.

The old man grabbed both bedrails and screamed:

“What did you do?!”

The boy stood still, calm as ever.

“It wasn’t healing,” he said coldly.

The room fell silent.

A fracture line spread across the cast.

The boy lifted the stone again.

“Stop!” the old man shouted, panic finally replacing arrogance.

Too late.

Another strike. Another crack. A large piece fell away.

The doctors stared.

Inside the broken cast… his toes were clean. Healthy. Pink. Not swollen. Not injured.

The female doctor covered her mouth.

The boy pointed.

“Move them.”

No one breathed.

Then one toe twitched.

Gasps filled the room. Sweat poured down the old man’s face.

The boy stepped closer.

“So why were you pretending?”

The male doctor reached into the lining of the broken cast and slowly pulled out a hidden plastic packet.

Inside was a folded sealed paper.

His voice dropped to a whisper.

“…what is this?”

The old man’s face collapsed in fear.

Because he knew exactly what was written inside.

Part 2 in the comments