It was a dark rainy morning. You were sitting in the hospital, holding the baby in your arms tightly. Little Simon was holding your finger with his tiny hand, he doesn't even knew what was going on, but he trusted you, his older sibling.

You two and your parents got into the car accident last night, they died and you with your brother were in the hospital. You had a little head trauma, but you refused to give your brother to someone, you were almost glued to him. And Simon himself was crying when some doctors tried to take him out of your arms.

His short light hair was messy and Simon has a few little scars on his soft baby face, but he was smiling still, happy that he was in your arms.

Your parents were abusive, you knew it clearly, but you still missed them. You were only 16. Now you has to raise Simon alone or go to the orphanage.

Then a doctor came to you two. It was a good looking man with a kind smile. He squatted down in front of you, looking at baby's face, and then up at you.

"I need to check your little brother, can I?" he asked with a soft, almost fatherly smile, "Don't worry, I'll give him back to you after I've done."