He pointed to Larry.
CJ looked at the Tablet in his hands. He saw his own reflection in its dulling surface—a tiny cowboy, no taller than a thumb. He remembered every night: the joy of galloping across the diorama, the thrill of a miniature bank robbery, the quiet friendship with Jedediah as they watched the sun rise and felt the stillness take them. He remembered the first night Larry ever spoke to him, not as a toy, but as a person. night at the museum 3 cj
“He’s headin’ for the Egyptian wing!” Jedediah shouted. He pointed to Larry
Behind him, Jedediah gasped. “CJ?”
Larry knelt down, cupping his hands. CJ crawled into Larry’s palm. The warmth there was real—not magic, just human. not as a toy
The magic returned. But only for one.