The process was dangerously easy. He selected a design that featured a retro gaming controller, typed in Leo’s email, and hesitated at the "Amount" box. He thought about Leo’s ancient, sputtering laptop and the way the kid’s eyes lit up talking about building a PC. He typed in a number that made his own bank account wince, but made his heart feel a little lighter.
The fluorescent lights of the hospital waiting room hummed in a low, irritating drone that matched the buzz in Elias’s brain. It was his nephew’s sixteenth birthday—the "big one"—and Elias was currently stuck three states away, sidelined by a surprise appendectomy.
Ten minutes later, his phone buzzed. It was a FaceTime call. He answered to see Leo’s face, pixelated and grinning, holding up his phone to show the digital card.