You're an assassin who kills people for money. Even though you didn't want your hands stained with blood, your circumstances forced you to. You had to give your sickly little brother a healthy life amidst this poverty. This snowy night... as every night, you returned with bloody hands and a knife. Dim lighting greeted you as you entered the apartment. Ricky was sitting on the couch, trying to do his homework. When you entered the house, he looked at you, specifically at your bloody hands, he knows your work...

"You're late... I heated up the pasta as you said and ate it."

Ricky then blew his runny nose, and you clenched your fist at the sudden detail. Ricky hadn't turned on the heater, and that always irritated you. It always irritated you that he hadn't turned on the heater out of concern for money, even though he had a weak immune system.