After watching the ink vanish from Ashley's notebook, I caught Jonah's flushed expression as he quietly moved back to his side of the room. I could empathize with his frustration, stemming from a conversation centered around something invisible to him.

"It's not fair, you know. You two might embark on incredible adventures with the Godmother, while I can't even see her. I'm starting to question what my place is here if I'm not terminally ill."

I sensed the need to alleviate his distress. Unfortunately, much like him, I was puzzled about why he was placed in this village among us. The Godmother had already said, last night, that it wasn't his time to see her.

"You're too far away, bunk buddy. The conversation's happening over here. I promise, Jonah, as soon as I find out why you can't see The Godmother, you'll be the first to know."

"You promise?"

"I promise. Now, come over here before I have to come over and drag you back myself."

Our laughter filled the room in my joke, well aware that I couldn't leave my bed without help. Ashley's gaze remained fixed on the notebook, puzzled by the disappearing ink. "What's next? How long do I have to wait to see any results?"

Our focus shifted to the pen's dials as they started to count down, eventually halting at the number 976.

"What does that mean?" Ashley asked.

"Only thing I know is, that it counted down the words we used to write the wish. We just have to wait and see what happens."

The door abruptly swung open, and the nurse on duty that night found us congregated around my bed.

"Guys, please go to sleep," she said, shutting the door as she left.

"Yeah, like she said. Go to sleep. You boys are annoying." As she retreated to her cubby, she cast a smile in my direction and gave me a wink.

A rustling noise emanated from Jonah's side of the room. He glanced at me before enveloping himself completely with his blanket. "Sam, do you think Ashley's wish will come true?"

"If we believe, it will happen."

I eased back onto my bed slowly, as I usually do, my mind teeming with thoughts about the events unfolding around me. The surrounding silence pulled me away from watchful eyes, surrendering to the demands of my weary body.

I awoke feeling refreshed from a full night's sleep, the window of my bedroom coming into view as I opened my eyes. Confusion momentarily set in, as I remembered being admitted to Hopeland Village just a few days prior. The comforting sensation of being back home provided a much-needed sense of relief, something I had started to long for during my time in the hospital.

I heard the distinct sound of a ball bouncing loudly on the basketball court next to my house. I searched for the string to sound the alarm, hoping my dad would come to help me stand.

However, as I looked around my room, I couldn't find it. I wished to sit in the chair by the window, to watch the kids play basketball as I often did.

"Dad?"

I contemplated yelling as loudly as possible, hoping to capture my parents' attention. Yet, I knew resorting to such measures might land me in trouble, likely hindering the assistance I sought. Summoning all the courage within me, I attempted to rise from the bed on my own.

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To my astonishment, I managed to stand without any help, and it was effortless.

The shock of this pleasant surprise left me bewildered. I moved from my desk and back, not feeling any drain on my energy.

Settling into the chair, I opened my window. The breeze was slightly chilly, yet it wasn't enough to make me seek refuge under my covers as it might have before.

I noticed one of the kids, Matthew, seated on the bench, not participating in the game. The game was underway with teams of two, relegating him as the odd one out, waiting for his turn with the losing team.

In a burst of excitement, I dashed downstairs to find my shoes. The thrill of the moment overwhelmed me; I was just moments away from inviting Matthew to join me in a game of one-on-one basketball. My heart brimmed with energy, signaling my readiness to resume life as I had always wished.

"Mom? Dad?"

It was out of the ordinary for my parents not to respond when I called out to them.

"I'll be out playing ball."

Eager not to miss the chance to play, I sprinted outside the house and quickly joined Matthew on the bench.

"Hey, Matthew." He glanced at me briefly, then continued to bounce his ball while seated.

"Do you want to play a game with me? One on one?"

A smile spread across his face. Matthew stood up from the bench and started running toward the other side of the court. I interpreted his action as acceptance of my invitation to play. Quickly, I followed him, catching the bouncing ball.

"Thanks for playing with me, Mat."

Matthew stayed quiet, focusing on shooting the ball into the basket.

"Everything okay?" I asked again, but still received no response.

Concern began to grow within me, pondering if I had inadvertently upset him. I was keen to find out why he wasn't engaging in conversation.

Matthew shot the ball once more, scoring a flawless basket.

"I don't think we should play anymore," he said, catching the rebound.

" Why?" I asked.

"I don't understand how you can live on your own. How could you live with the choices you made."

"But I don't live on my own. My parents are sleeping."

Ignoring my response, Matthew dashed toward the basket, leaping with all his might and scoring another impeccable shot.

"I would never do anything to my parents the way you did."

My confusion deepened; his remark made no sense to me.

"They sacrificed everything so you could live. I don't think it's a fair exchange."

"Mat, I don't understand what you're talking about. My parents are sleeping in their room."

He halted the ball's bounce and faced me directly. "Show me."

Motivated by his challenge, I was intent on showing my friend that my parents were perfectly fine. Without hesitation, I turned and started heading back to my house. Matthew left the basketball behind on the court and trailed behind me, keeping some distance.

I hurriedly opened the door, calling out as loudly as possible, "Mom!"

Matthew lingered behind me; his face etched with a grave expression. "Show me."

Together, we raced upstairs directly to my parents' bedroom. I reached for the door, attempting to open it, but the knob wouldn't turn.

I knocked on the door twice. Yet, we received no reply. "Dad?"

I attempted to open the door once again but with no success. "I can't open it."

Matthew then took his turn, grasping the knob and giving it a twist. The door swung open, revealing a tidy room that showed no signs of anyone living in it.

Stepping into the room, I called out again, hoping for a response. "Mom?"

"You, see? I bet you don't even know where they are."

The calmness around me was swiftly engulfed by darkness. The house, once adorned with bright, welcoming hues, transitioned into a desolate shade of grey. The sunlight ceased to illuminate the space, and Matthew morphed into a figure entirely unfamiliar to me, altering the ambiance dramatically.

He stood before me, dressed in a black hoodie that completely obscured his face.

"I will show you, where your parents lay."

He gestured outside the house, and I couldn't help but notice the skeletal thinness of his hand.

"Follow me."

Fear gripped my heart as I followed Matthew, uncertain of what awaited me. He exited the house, moving slowly toward the backyard.

Stopping before an old tree, I could hear the leaves crunching beneath my feet. At the roots of the tree, two tombstones lay, each bearing my parents' names.

"This is where your parents lay."

My heart clenched with pain as I beheld the sight of their graves. Tears streamed down my cheeks uncontrollably, dampening the soil that now covered my parents' bodies.

"They died because of me?" I asked.

"They died because of your decisions. You allowed them to spend every ounce of energy they had, to give you a chance to live."

I remained knelt before their tombstones, overwhelmed by a sense of guilt and confusion.

"But is this what you wanted?" Matthew asked. "The trade-off is unfair. Two souls for one—nothing is balanced with this exchange."

Infuriated by his comment, I stood up, facing him with a shout fueled by every ounce of strength I possessed. "What do you want me to do?"