Paula had noticed how Felix’s stepmother, Camille, always insisted on being the one to wash Felix’s hair, even though she left every other task to the staff. It struck Paula as odd, though she couldn’t quite put her finger on why until Felix’s silent plea unlocked a hidden instinct within her. She waited until the house was quiet, the doctors gone, and even the cameras seemed to blink in weariness.
With unimaginable courage, Paula approached Felix. She softly whispered assurances, her voice a balm attempting to soothe the uncontrolled chaos in his young mind. Her fingers, gentle yet firm from years of toil, hovered over Felix’s head. She hesitated only a moment, wary of crossing boundaries that could cost her more than her position.
With a resolute breath, she touched the spot Felix had pointed to. Beneath the silky, golden strands of his hair, she felt something unfamiliar, something foreign. Her heart pounded as she gently probed deeper. Her fingers, skilled from years of medicine women in her family, found an object embedded painfully into his scalp. It was small, metallic, and unnatural.
