Maya pulled a folded sheet of paper from her worn backpack and placed it on Ethan’s lap.
It was not expensive.
It had been made from the back of an old grocery bag, flattened carefully and colored with short pencils.
A crooked superhero stood in the center wearing a blue cape.
Instead of legs, he sat in a chair with enormous silver wheels.
Lightning bolts shot from the rims.
Above him, in uneven letters, Maya had written a name.
Captain Thunder.
Ethan stared at the drawing.
“You made this?” he asked.
Maya nodded.
“On the way from the gate.”
William looked at the paper, then at the scattered colored pencils inside her backpack.
She had seen the superhero banners through the iron fence, sat on the stone wall outside, and drawn something before asking to enter.
Maya pointed to the superhero’s wheels.
“They store electricity,” she explained.
“But I didn’t finish the story because I don’t know what power you want.”
Ethan touched one of the penciled lightning bolts.
The magician, musicians, caterers, and household staff stood silently around them.
Twenty-eight golden chairs waited behind Maya like an audience that had arrived too late.
“What powers can I choose?” Ethan asked.
“Any.”
“Invisibility?”
“That one is useful.”
“Flying?”
“Too obvious.”
Ethan’s mouth moved slightly.
It was not yet a smile, but William saw it begin.
Maya leaned closer.
“You could also control people’s shoelaces.
Every bad person tries to run away, and their shoes tie themselves together.”
A sound escaped Ethan before he could stop it.
A small laugh.
William had spent months paying experts to bring that sound back.
A child in a faded cardigan had found it in less than three minutes.
Maya looked pleased but not surprised.
“So?” she asked.
“What power?”
Ethan considered the question seriously.
“I want to know when people are lying.”
The garden went still.
William lowered his eyes.
Maya did not glance at him.
She only picked up a blue pencil.
“Then his wheels should glow when someone lies.”
She drew two bright circles around the rims.
Ethan watched her hand.
“Both wheels?”
“Small lie, one wheel.
Huge lie, both.”
“Dad said everyone was running late.”
Maya’s pencil stopped.
William felt every adult in the garden listening.
“He was trying to make you feel better,” Maya said.
“That is still lying.”
“Yes,” she answered.
