“No, Gertrudis,” Roberto said, his voice dropping into a cold, terrifying calm that made the old woman pause. “You don’t need to call anyone.”
He stepped aside and gestured into the hallway. Elena walked out from the kitchen, holding Pedrito’s small hand. But Pedrito wasn’t being carried, nor was he sitting in his wheelchair. The little boy was taking slow, deliberate, independent steps across the marble floor, his small face glowing with pride as he held onto Elena’s fingers.
Doña Gertrudis gasped, her hands shaking so violently that the silver tray nearly slipped from her grip. “What… how is this possible? The doctors said he couldn’t walk!”
“My son is walking because Elena brought life, love, and effort into this house,” Roberto said, stepping in front of his neighbor and blocking her view. “While you sat behind your curtains gossiping about loud music and spreading poison, she was teaching my boy how to stand. You advised me to look out for people who smile too much, but the truth is, I should have been guarding my home against people like you.”
Roberto took a step forward, forcing Gertrudis to back off the porch. “Never set foot on my property again, Gertrudis. Your bitterness is no longer welcome here.” He slammed the heavy oak door shut, locking it firmly behind him.
To see how this miracle changes their lives forever, continue reading below for the final part.
