"Three doctors have looked at my leg," Hamilton said. "Real doctors with real degrees. You can't even get yourself a pair of shoes."
The words brought a small, ugly ripple of laughter from the table. Thomas stopped smiling almost immediately and looked away. Victoria's eyes moved from Hamilton to Miles, then toward the approaching restaurant security guard. She seemed to recognize that the situation had become about something more than pain.
Miles tightened his grip on the plastic bag. "I know I'm little," he said. "I know I don't have shoes. But I can read, and I remember what I read."
Hamilton pulled out his checkbook. It was a gesture he used when a conversation irritated him and he wanted money to restore control. He flattened it against the table and uncapped an expensive pen, grimacing as he leaned toward the boy. "All right, doctor," he said in a cruel imitation of politeness. "You say you can fix me in seconds?"
"The article said one patient's spasm released very quickly," Miles answered. "I didn't say I could promise that."
"A million dollars," Hamilton said. "If you give me my leg back in those magical seconds, I'll write you a check for a million dollars."
He looked around at the guests, inviting their reaction. Richard laughed, then Peter, then a stranger at a nearby table who seemed to think the joke was intended for everybody. Hamilton turned toward Miles again and lowered his voice just enough to make the threat feel personal. "And when this little performance fails, security will call the police. You understand me?"
The guard reached the railing and put a hand on Miles's shoulder. His name was Leon Brooks, and he was a broad-shouldered man who had spent twelve years keeping restaurant arguments from turning physical. He could feel the child trembling beneath his hand. Leon looked at Hamilton, then at the medical journal pages visible through the plastic bag.
"Mr. Hamilton," Leon said, "the ambulance is on its way. I don't think threatening a kid is helping."
Hamilton looked briefly surprised to be challenged. Then pain tightened his expression again, reminding everyone that the emergency had not disappeared during the argument. "Let him show us what he's talking about," he said. "I want to hear the miracle."
"You don't have to prove anything," Leon whispered to Miles. "You can step back with me if you want."
Miles looked at the guard's hand and understood that he was being offered a choice. It was such an unfamiliar thing that he hesitated before answering. He could still leave, but he could also explain what he had read to somebody who might listen. He lifted his head toward Hamilton.
"Okay, sir," he said. "But first, I need somebody to understand that there might be other reasons your leg won't move. You still need the ambulance."