A month had passed since the visit with Dr. Sutton. Life had settled into a new routine, but change was inevitable.
Jordan had thrown himself into track and field, his passion reignited as he trained harder than ever. The effort paid offâhe had won several gold medals at recent meets, bringing pride to both his school and Mrs. Faulknerâs household. The school had also adjusted to accommodate Tylerâs condition, understanding that while he was physically sixteen, his mind functioned at a much younger level. Teachers worked with Jordan to ensure Tyler was comfortable, and Jordan had taken on the role of both brother and caretaker with unwavering dedication.
But something still nagged at him.
One evening, after returning home from practice, Jordan went to clean up his room and stumbled upon an old VHS tape sitting atop a stack of books. A note was taped to it, written in Tylerâs familiar handwriting:
**"To Jordy, from Ty-Ty. Watch me."**
His heart pounded as he carried the tape to the living room, where Mrs. Faulkner still kept an old player for moments just like this. Inserting the tape, he hit play and sat back, unsure of what to expect.
The screen flickered to life, and there was Tylerâhis old self.
"Hey, Jordy!" Tyler grinned, holding up the camera with shaky hands. "So, uh⦠I guess if you're watching this, that means something happened, huh? You always said I should leave notes for myself in case I ever forgot something important, so⦠here I am."
Jordan swallowed hard, his fingers digging into his jeans.
Tyler took a deep breath. "I know me. I know that sometimes I get in my own head and that⦠well, if something ever goes wrong, I might need a push to get back." His eyes softened. "Jordy, if you're watching this, and Iâm⦠not me anymore, I need you to do something for me. I need you to fix it."
Jordan's breath hitched.
Tyler chuckled nervously on the screen. "I donât care if itâs hard or if it takes time. I trust you. I know youâll do whatâs right, even when I canât see it. So⦠please, donât give up on me, okay?"
The screen went black.
Jordan sat frozen, the weight of the message settling into his chest. Tyler had known this might happen. He had trusted Jordan to make the call.
Mrs. Faulkner and Miss Harper had been standing quietly behind him, watching over his shoulder.
Jordan turned to them, his voice steady despite the emotions bubbling inside him. "Iâm going to do the experiment. I have to."
Mrs. Faulkner nodded, her expression unreadable but supportive. "Then we'll set it up, sweetheart."
Jordan exhaled, gripping the tape in his hands. This wasnât just about wanting his brother back. This was about honoring Tylerâs trust in him.
One way or another, he would see this through.
Dr. Sutton was silent on the other end of the line for a moment. Jordan could hear the distant rustling of papers before the doctor finally responded, his tone serious but understanding.
"Jordan, I need you to understandâthis is not a guaranteed fix. This experiment is still in early stages, and while it has shown promise, there are risks. I need to go over everything with you in detail before we proceed."
"I donât care," Jordan said firmly. "I donât care what it takes. I donât care what it costs. I justâI just want my best friend back. As much of him as I can get."
Mrs. Faulkner placed a reassuring hand on Jordanâs shoulder, but she didnât interrupt. She knew better than to talk him out of this.
Dr. Sutton sighed. "Alright, Jordan. Iâll set up the necessary tests. I want you and Tyler in my office first thing tomorrow morning. But be preparedâthis wonât be easy, and you need to be ready for whatever happens."
Jordan clenched his jaw. "I already am."
As he hung up, he turned to Mrs. Faulkner and Miss Harper. "No matter what happens, I have to try."
Mrs. Faulkner gave him a small, proud smile. "Then weâll stand by you every step of the way."
Jordan glanced over at the playpen where Tyler sat, happily playing with a stuffed animal, completely unaware of the storm brewing around him.
Tomorrow, everything would change.
Jordan took a deep breath, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. He had known this wasnât going to be easy, but hearing it againâhearing just how uncertain the outcome wasâmade his stomach twist.
âI get it,â he said, his voice firm but quiet. âBut I have to try. I canât just sit back and do nothing.â
Dr. Sutton nodded, his expression serious but understanding. âAlright. Then letâs begin.â
Jordan turned back toward Tyler, who was happily babbling to himself in the chair, clutching his favorite stuffed animal. He looked so content, so unaware of the weight of the decision Jordan had just made.
The doctor motioned for Jordan to help Tyler onto the examination table. âThe process involves a combination of neural stimulation, memory recall exercises, and experimental cognitive therapy. Some of it will be passive, and some of it will require Tyler to engage in the exercises. Weâll monitor his brain activity closely throughout.â
Jordan sat beside the table, gripping Tylerâs hand. âYouâre gonna do great, Ty.â
Tyler looked up at him with big, trusting eyes and giggled. âI wuv you, Daddy Jordy.â
Jordan felt his chest tighten. âI love you too, buddy.â
Dr. Sutton took out a small device, placing it gently against Tylerâs temple. The machine hummed to life, and the experiment began.