Mrs.
Collins approached with a stack of printed messages.
“The final cancellations,” she said quietly.
William did not take them.
“I have seen enough.”
“There is something you should know.”
She opened the stack and showed him the first page.
Several parents had used nearly identical language.
Their children were uncomfortable.
The party might be emotionally difficult.
They wanted to protect them from frightening questions.
Another message mentioned the school.
It said the family had originally accepted because William financed the new science building and they feared declining might appear disrespectful.
William read the sentence twice.
The invitations had not been accepted for Ethan.
They had been accepted for William Thornton.
His name, his money, and his influence had filled the guest list.
Then fear had emptied the chairs.
He felt anger rise through him with the familiar force of a business instinct.
He could call the head of the school.
He could cancel his donation.
He could demand explanations from every parent who had abandoned his son.
He could make twenty-eight families regret humiliating an eight-year-old boy.
His phone was already in his hand when Ethan laughed again.
William looked across the garden.
Maya had drawn the villain with six shoes and only two feet.
Ethan was laughing so hard that he had to press one hand against his stomach.
William slowly put the phone away.
Using power to force apologies would create another perfect performance.
Parents would arrive with gifts.
Children would be told to smile.
Everyone would pretend kindness because the wealthy man demanded it.
Ethan would know.
Captain Thunder’s wheels would glow.
William folded the printed messages and placed them beneath his jacket.
“Not today,” he told Mrs.
Collins.
The magician gathered everyone near the fountain for one trick.
He borrowed a silver coin from William and placed it in Ethan’s palm.
“Close your hand,” he instructed.
Ethan obeyed.
Maya watched suspiciously.
“Check his sleeves.”
“I have no sleeves,” the magician said, showing his arms.
“That is exactly what someone with suspicious sleeves would say.”
Ethan laughed again.
The magician asked him to imagine the coin becoming lighter.
Ethan opened his hand.
The coin had vanished.
Maya searched beneath the wheelchair, behind Ethan’s ears, and inside her backpack.
Then the magician pointed toward the superhero drawing.
A small silver coin rested in the paper hero’s penciled hand.
Ethan’s eyes widened.
“How did you do that?”
“A magician never reveals his secrets.”
Maya folded her arms.
