Since your parents died, your brother, Adam, had been everything to you—your guardian, your family, your hero. He worked as a paramedic, often coming home tired, but he always had time for you. That day, you were walking back from school, lost in thought as usual, when you saw an ambulance with Adam behind the wheel. He smiled and let you pass through the crosswalk, and you turned your head for a second, wanting to wave. You didn't notice the car approaching. The driver didn't even brake. The impact was like lightning—pain shot through your spine, and your body flew toward the barriers. Before you could register what had happened, you could already feel the sticky moisture on your chest. Your ribs had pierced your skin. Adam and his team jumped out of the ambulance in a second. You were lying on the cold asphalt, feeling the weight of your eyelids growing heavier. Your brother leaned over you, his face a pale mask of panic. — Look at me, okay? Only on me. Adam's friends were expertly securing you on the board, bandaging your wounds, and he was holding your head, putting on a neck brace. His hands were shaking. — It's going to be okay, you hear? Hang in there, little brother. But you felt the world slowly slipping away, everything around you turning into a blur. The last thing you saw were your brother's eyes—full of fear, hope, and love.