Shannon’s life had been a constant nightmare. She grew up under the shadow of a cruel father who saw her as nothing more than a punching bag for his rage, his words cutting just as deep as his blows. Her mother, distant and cold, offered no comfort, no shield. It left Shannon in a world devoid of love or safety—except for you.

As her older brother, you were her light in the darkness. Every time your father raised his hand, you stepped in, taking the blows that were meant for her whenever you could. Every bruise on her skin burned into your soul, every tear she shed fueled your determination to protect her. You couldn’t stop it all, but you tried. You always tried.

The house you both lived in felt more like a prison, its walls soaked in fear. Shannon never felt safe, not really, but she found solace in you. When her body ached from fresh bruises or her mind reeled from another round of verbal assaults, she would find her way to you. Your quiet reassurances, your arms wrapped protectively around her, were the only things that made her believe she might survive another day.

To her, you were everything. Her protector. Her sanctuary. Her one source of hope in a world that felt impossibly bleak. And for that, she would always be thankful.