On the steps of the hospital entrance, a sudden cry for help made Louis's heart jolt.
He looked up and immediately recognized the black-haired woman he had rescued earlier. The two people beside her were clearly her husband and child.
Before Louis could react, Dr. Gayle, who had just returned to the hospital, heard the commotion.
She turned at once. When she saw the unconscious child slumped on the man's back, her expression changed instantly.
"Quick. Bring him inside."
Under Dr. Gayle's direction, Morgan hurried into the hospital with his son Duane on his back, Jenny following close behind, panic written across her face.
Inside a hastily converted ward, Dr. Gayle began examining the boy without delay.
"There's a scratch on his arm," she said after a brief inspection. "The wound isn't deep, but it's already inflamed."
"You can call me Morgan. This is my son, Duane," Morgan said anxiously. "He suddenly developed a high fever this morning. He's been delirious and can't even keep medicine down. We didn't know what else to do."
As she disinfected the swollen, reddened wound with an alcohol swab, Dr. Gayle spoke in a low, steady voice.
"It's likely an infection caused by the wound. The situation is serious, but not beyond hope."
"I'll give him an antibiotic injection first and start an IV. If we can bring the fever down, he should stabilize."
As Dr. Gayle moved to prepare the medication, Louis stood frozen to the side, shock crashing through him.
Morgan. Jenny. Duane.
This was the family Rick was meant to encounter early in the original timeline.
Louis stared at them in disbelief.
He had never imagined that his impulsive act of kindness on the street that day would change something so fundamental. Jenny, who should have died early in the outbreak, was standing here alive.
In the original course of events, Morgan's inability to kill his wife after she turned had led to Duane's death and the complete collapse of their family.
But now, all three of them were here.
Alive.
Louis's heart pounded as a bold idea took shape in his mind.
In the original story, Morgan had lost everything and chosen isolation, missing his chance to join Rick's group until much later.
But Louis knew how terrifyingly strong Morgan would eventually become.
What if he could change that path?
What if this family could join Rick's group early, alongside him?
Yes, it would alter the future.
But Louis was not afraid.
His greatest advantage was not simply knowledge of the plot, but the power he was steadily gaining in this world.
If he intended to cling to a fixed timeline, he might as well have accepted death the moment he arrived here.
His decision was made.
The first step was trust.
Louis glanced at Jenny's exhausted, worried face, then at the two untouched boxes of antibiotics tucked into his backpack.
A plan formed quietly.
As Dr. Gayle turned away to prepare the IV, Louis hesitated, then slowly stepped forward. His shoulders drooped, guilt spreading across his expression.
Lowering his head, he spoke softly to Jenny, his voice trembling with remorse.
"I'm sorry, ma'am. This is my fault. If it weren't for me, he wouldn't be like this."
The sudden apology stunned everyone in the room.
"Kid, what are you talking about?" Morgan asked, frowning in confusion.
They all knew Duane had been scratched by broken glass while scavenging. What could that possibly have to do with Louis?
But Louis did not look up.
His voice wavered, as if he were on the verge of tears.
"It has to be me. I took his medicine. That's why he got worse."
As he spoke, he reached into his backpack and took out two unopened boxes of antibiotics.
Of course, it was a lie.
But Louis needed them to understand something.
And Jenny, exactly as he had hoped, understood first.
When Jenny saw the two familiar boxes of medicine, she froze.
Then, as if something clicked in her mind, her eyes widened in sudden realization. She pointed at Louis, her voice trembling with disbelief.
"These… these two boxes of medicine… Oh my God. You're the kind person from that day. You're the one who drove those Walkers away."
"You saved my life." She crouched down at once and pulled Louis into a tight embrace. "Kid, how could you think this was your fault?"
"It has nothing to do with you at all. Duane was injured later. You didn't cause this."
"Really?"
Louis looked up at her, his blue eyes glistening with just the right amount of tears, uncertainty written plainly on his face.
"It's true," Morgan said firmly, stepping forward. "You saved my wife. You're a benefactor to our family."
Now fully understanding the situation, Morgan and Jenny hurriedly explained everything, speaking over each other as they recounted what had happened that day.
As Louis listened, the guilt and doubt on his face gradually faded, replaced by shy embarrassment. He wiped his eyes and murmured his thanks.
With that, the impression he wanted was firmly established.
In the hearts of Morgan and Jenny, Louis was now a kind, self-blaming, almost saintly child.
Exactly as he intended.
He had not only confirmed his identity as Jenny's savior but also cemented an image of harmlessness and trustworthiness, laying the foundation for what he planned to do next.
Before long, Dr. Gayle finished treating Duane's wound and set up the IV drip.
Looking at their son sleeping quietly on the hospital bed, Morgan and Jenny were clearly exhausted, worry etched deeply into their faces.
"You're both worn out," Louis said at just the right moment. "Go rest in the room next door for a while. I'll stay here and keep watch."
"If Duane wakes up or anything changes, I'll call you right away."
"How can we do that?" Morgan protested instinctively. "You're just a kid."
"It's fine, Mr. Morgan," Louis replied with a small smile, pointing to his eyes. "I just woke up, so I'm not sleepy at all."
"Dr. Gayle needs rest too, and I'm the most energetic one here right now. If you rest properly, you'll be in better shape to take care of Duane when he wakes up."
The logic was sound, and the concern sincere.
Morgan and Jenny exchanged a glance, gratitude deepening in their eyes. After giving repeated instructions and thanks, they finally went to the adjacent room to rest.
Once the ward was quiet, Louis's expression changed subtly.
The real reason he had sent them away was not just to earn goodwill.
It was to verify his latest results.
After repeated practice, he had essentially mastered the Episkey spell.
The small cuts he had inflicted on himself earlier, as well as the wounds on rats he had caught around the hospital, could now be healed reliably.
Now came the first real clinical test.
After confirming that Morgan and Jenny were asleep and that Dr. Gayle was resting in her office, Louis quietly closed the ward door.
He stepped up to Duane's bedside and examined the boy's arm. Even through the bandages, the swelling was obvious.
Louis took a steadying breath.
Then he raised his wand and pointed it at the wound.
"Episkey."