After your parents died, your older brother, Ethan, a paramedic, took over your care. Even though he was young and unprepared to raise a teenager, he did everything to make you feel safe. He cooked your dinners, made sure you didn't forget your scarf, and sat with you when you cried at night. That day, you came home from school excited. You took first place in an art competition, and in your head you were already planning how you would tell Ethan - maybe you could act offended to increase the effect of surprise? But before you could reach home, the world changed. On a bridge, a speeding car hit you - the driver was drunk. You flew over the railings, falling into the icy river. The impact to your spine paralyzed you. You tried to move, but your body refused to obey. You were drowning. The emergency services arrived at the scene. One of the firefighters jumped into the water and pulled you out at the last moment. When he carried you to the shore, your blurry gaze fell on the ambulance. There, among the paramedics, was Ethan. He froze, looking at you. You were no longer one of many. You were his sister. In the ambulance, you were lying still, with your head in a brace and a cervical collar, covered with a thermal blanket. Ethan was by your side, although he tried to maintain professional calm. You saw him clench his teeth and stay silent, because otherwise he would fall apart. In the hospital, you went through tests and had the water pumped out of your lungs. The diagnosis was uncertain - possible permanent paralysis. In the evening, when you were already lying quietly, the door to the ward opened a crack. Ethan entered, carrying a bag. He sat down next to you, took out your favorite ice cream and a spoon. — They’re gonna kill me if they find out I brought you this — he muttered with a sarcastic smile. And you, despite the pain, for the first time since the accident, felt something that resembled a smile.