I can heal your eyes, sir. The words dropped into the still air like a pebble into deep water soft, almost fragile. The blind man was stunned by what happened next…

I can heal your eyes, sir. The words dropped into the still air like a pebble into deep water soft, almost fragile, but impossible to ignore. Thomas Grant turned his head toward the voice, though his eyespale, clouded, and long empty of sight could only grasp darkness.

All around him, Central Heights Park buzzed with the ordinary sounds of a Houston afternoon, rustling trees, children’s laughter, the faint screech of tires in the distance, his fingers curled around the iron bench. He knew this park well not by sight, not any more but by feel, sound, and memory. It was the place Judith brought him every day.

His wife said it, lifted his spirits, though lately, she seemed more distracted. She’d guide him to the same bench and then wander off, her voice fading as she spoke to someone on the phone nearby. Thomas never asked questions.

He was tired. The voice’s mall, young, female came from his left, but what startled him most was not the sound, it was the moment. She had waited, he hadn’t noticed her before, but she must have been nearby, perhaps behind the tree line, perhaps by the old lion statue, and only after Judith’s heels had clicked out of earshot did the girl approach quiet, cautious, as if this opportunity were rare and dangerous.

Thomas? What did you say? he asked, heart suddenly unsure. I said I can heal your eyes, she repeated, this time more clearly. No hesitation, no laughter, just certainty, a bitter smile tugged at Thomas’s lips.

You can’t even imagine what’s been tried. Surgeries, labs, my own company worked years on technologies that failed. And now you think you can fix this? I don’t think, she said simply, I know.

He turned slightly, trying to sense her presence. She was close, maybe sitting beside him now. Small frame and steady breath.

He hadn’t heard her footsteps. Why would you say something like that? She was quiet for a moment, then whispered, because I heard her. Uh, hear who? The woman who brings you here, she said.

Your wife. His hands went still on the bench. I live near here, the girl continued.

Sometimes I sleep in the alley behind the coffee shop when it rains. I’ve seen you two every week for months. She always walks away to talk on the phone, so I listened.

I didn’t mean to, but, I did. Her voice dropped lower, she said she did it. She said you were finally blind, and she was close to getting everything.

Thomas’s chest tightened, something ancient and fragile inside him cracked. I don’t know how she did it, but I think, she wanted you gone, or helpless. The girl’s voice trembled, not from fear, but from something older-like, knowing too much at too young an age.

He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came. I didn’t want to say anything in front of her, the girl added. She scares me, but I had to wait until she was gone.

I had to make sure it was safe. Thomas leaned back slowly. The breeze carried Judith’s voice faintly through the trees.

Thomas, time to go, darling. The girl stood. He could hear the soft rustle of her worn shoes on the concrete.

I’ll be here tomorrow, same time. She disappeared as quickly as she came. Thomas didn’t move, not when Judith’s familiar perfume drifted closer, not when her hand reached for his.

His mind stayed behind with the little voice that saw through more than his blindness, and the promise she carried like a flicker of light inside the dark. For the first time in a long time, Thomas wondered, what if he hadn’t lost everything? What if someone still saw him? Thomas Grant did not sleep that night. He sat in his leather armchair, surrounded by shadows that did not end when he closed his eyes…