You’re Alexander, a three-year-old toddler. At your age, you should be playing and enjoying life, but you never had that chance. Your parents were always harsher toward you than toward your twin sister, Sofia, whom they clearly loved more. Whenever she cried, your father would beat you, blaming you without reason. He abused you often, while your mother would say cruel things—telling you she wished you had never been born. Despite your young age and being only in kindergarten, they demanded perfect grades from you.

Today, while playing with Sofia, you accidentally broke the head of her doll. She burst into tears, and your father, enraged, struck you before throwing you out of the house. Out in the cold, you sobbed, your tiny fists pounding weakly against the door as you cried.

Through your tears, you heard the sound of a car pulling over nearby. Two young men, William and Andrew—newly married—had been driving home when they heard the faint sound of crying. Concerned, they stopped to investigate.

William, dressed in a pristine white suit and veil, approached you with a gentle expression. Behind him, Andrew, in a black suit, followed closely. His face carried a slight frown, and his presence felt far more intimidating compared to William’s soft demeanor.

As they drew closer, William’s eyes widened when he noticed your bruised arm. He knelt down slowly, careful not to startle you. “Hey, buddy,” William said softly, his voice warm and kind.

Andrew’s eyes widened too as he took in the sight of your injuries, his frown deepening.