TOM BOLTON
I stepped out of the hospital during my break, my mind still spinning from everything that had happened.
Gerald's sudden streak of misfortune… The knowledge that had appeared in my mind… My miraculous healing…
And most of all, this necklace.
I pulled it out from under my shirt, my fingers tracing the vine-like carvings on the wooden pendant.
Then, to my shock, it began to glow.
A deep, golden light pulsed from it, almost as if it were alive.
My heart pounded.
Something was wrong.
I didn't know how I knew, but I felt it.
A terrible feeling washed over me.
Danger.
I put my food down on the bench beside me and looked around.
People were walking, chatting, going about their day as if nothing was happening.
But then—
A scream.
"Help! Somebody, help!"
I turned my head sharply.
Near the edge of Golden Lake, a little boy was flailing, his tiny hands struggling to grab onto the muddy bank.
He was slipping.
His face was red from crying, his voice hoarse as he begged for help.
But no one moved.
Some people gasped. Others whispered.
But no one took a step forward.
Without thinking, I ran.
My legs carried me toward the boy, my heartbeat matching the rush of the wind in my ears.
As I reached the lake's edge, his fingers lost their grip.
He fell.
I lunged forward.
My hands shot out, grabbing his arm just in time.
The freezing water splashed up, soaking my sleeves, but I didn't care.
I pulled with all my strength.
"Hold on," I said firmly. "I've got you."
The boy sobbed, clinging to me. "P-Please don't let go!"
"I won't," I promised.
With one final tug, I hauled him up onto the grass.
He coughed and gasped for air, his little body shaking from fear and cold.
The boy's grandfather arrived in a rush, his breathing heavy.
As soon as he saw his grandson safe, he sighed in relief and pulled him into his arms. "Are you hurt?"
The little boy shook his head. "No, Grandpa. He saved me."
The old man turned his gaze to me. His sharp eyes studied me for a moment before he nodded. "Young man, you saved my grandson's life. I owe you everything."
I shook my head. "You don't owe me anything, sir. I just did what anyone would do."
The grandfather's expression didn't change. Instead, he reached into his coat and pulled out a checkbook.
"I want to reward you," he said firmly. "One million dollars."
I blinked. Did I hear that right?
"One million dollars?" I repeated.
"Yes," he confirmed. "That's nothing compared to my grandson's life."
The boy looked up at me and smiled. "Big brother, you're so kind."
I smiled back. "Just be careful next time, okay?"
The grandfather extended the check toward me. "Take it."
I took a deep breath before shaking my head. "Sir, I can't accept this."
His brows furrowed. "Why not?"
"I didn't save him for money," I said simply. "I just did what was right."
The old man stared at me for a long time. His eyes, filled with wisdom and authority, seemed to search for something in me.
"Not many people would say that," he finally muttered.
I simply gave a small nod and turned to leave.
But then, something caught my attention.
I paused and looked at the grandfather again.
There was something… off about him.
A faint, almost invisible aura surrounded him. It was weak, unsteady.
Something in my mind clicked, and before I could stop myself, I spoke.
"Wait, sir."
The old man's sharp gaze snapped back to me. "Yes?"
I hesitated for a second before saying, "You should go to the hospital."
His expression didn't change, but I could tell he was confused. "Why do you say that?"
I took a step closer and met his gaze. "You have fibromyalgia."
His eyes narrowed. "What?"
I continued, "It's a chronic condition that causes widespread pain, fatigue, and other symptoms. It can be difficult to diagnose because there's no specific test for it. The symptoms often overlap with other conditions, meaning doctors have to rule out other causes first. That makes the diagnostic process long and frustrating."
His lips pressed into a thin line. "And how do you know this?"
I shrugged. "I just do."
The old man's expression darkened slightly. "You're telling me… I have an illness even top doctors haven't figured out?"
I nodded. "You probably feel constant muscle pain, extreme tiredness, and trouble sleeping, right?"
His eyes widened slightly, and for the first time, I saw a flicker of surprise in them.
I knew I was right.
"Listen," I said calmly. "It won't kill you, but it'll make your life miserable if you don't manage it properly. You should get checked."
The old man fell silent. Even his grandson looked up at me with wide eyes.
After a few seconds, he finally spoke. "What's your name?"
I hesitated before answering. "Tom. Tom Bolton."
He nodded slowly. "You're not an ordinary young man, Tom."
I gave him a small smile. "I'm just someone who sees things differently."
With that, I turned and walked away.
But as I left, I could still feel the old man's intense gaze on my back.
The grandfather stood in silence, watching as I disappeared into the distance.
His grandson tugged on his sleeve. "Grandpa, what's wrong?"
The old man didn't answer immediately. Instead, he turned to his secretary, Jason, who had been standing nearby the entire time.
"Find out everything about that young man," he ordered.
Jason adjusted his glasses. "Understood, sir."
The old man took a deep breath, his mind still replaying our conversation.
How could a young man like me diagnose something even the best doctors failed to notice?
He didn't believe in coincidences.
As I walked back to the hospital, my mind was still racing.
What had just happened?
I had never been able to diagnose illnesses just by looking at someone before.
But when I saw that old man, something inside me just knew.
Was this… part of the inheritance the voices spoke about?
I instinctively touched the wooden necklace around my neck.
It was warm.
A strange energy pulsed through it, flowing into me.
I took a deep breath and clenched my fists.
I needed to figure out what was happening to me.