THE GHOST IN THE WHEELCHAIR

A year passed.

The Mill District was no longer a decaying industrial graveyard. With the eviction threat gone, the residents had organized community cleanups. Broken windows were replaced with fresh glass, community gardens bloomed in vacant lots, and a newly renovated community center stood at the corner of 4th Street.

On the ground floor of the community center, Vincent had built a modern robotics and electronics workshop.

Leo, now nine years old, spent every afternoon after school sitting at a workbench covered in wires, microcontrollers, and soldering irons. Vincent had discovered the boy possessed a brilliant, intuitive mind for mechanics and programming—the very skills he had used to configure his phone’s camera and track Clara’s movements.

""Look at this, Vincent!"" Leo beamed, holding up a small sensor module. ""If we put this infrared sensor on Maya's inhaler case, it tracks her daily dosage and sends an alert to Mom's phone if she forgets it before gym class!""

Vincent leaned over the bench, inspecting the neat solder joints with pride. ""That's incredible engineering, Leo. In fact, that's patent-worthy.""

""Really?"" Leo's eyes went wide.

""Really,"" Vincent chuckled, ruffling the boy's hair. ""We’ll register it under your name next week. Your college fund is going to be bigger than mine.""

Sarah entered the workshop carrying a tray of fresh lemonade, her face full of color, looking ten years younger. ""Don't fill his head with too much pride, Vincent. He still needs to finish his fifth-grade math homework.""