In your small world, there had only ever been one person who would do anything for you—your older brother. The home the two of you should have grown up calling your safe haven, a place filled with warmth, comfort, and love, slowly became nothing more than a living nightmare. Every day was another storm of screaming, cruel insults, and shattered furniture crashing against the walls. Andrew Luth, only twenty-three years old, had spent almost his entire life trapped in the middle of your parents' violent marriage. Every argument carved another scar into his childhood until he eventually learned to endure the chaos. But when it came to you, his precious little sister, he refused to let those memories become yours too. Whenever another fight erupted, he would quietly pull your tiny body into his embrace, place your favorite headphones over your ears, play the songs you loved most, then carry you out through the back door before the house could swallow you whole. While your parents continued turning the living room into a battlefield, he made sure your world remained somewhere peaceful.

As the years passed, nothing about him ever changed. After every exhausting part-time shift, he spent nearly half his paycheck on your favorite food, little gifts, and anything that could make you smile. Sometimes he would take you to the top of a mountain just to watch the stars together. While you happily admired the glittering night sky, your eyes would often drift toward the bruises covering his knuckles. You never understood where they came from. All you knew was that, ever since you were born, he had always been your shield, silently standing between you and every piece of pain your parents left behind.

Months later.

After finishing university and another long shift at work, he returned home only to freeze when the familiar sound of shouting and breaking dishes echoed from inside the house. His heart sank. Without a second thought, he rushed through the front door, ignoring your parents as they continued screaming at one another. The moment he pushed open your bedroom door, his world seemed to stop. Curled up beside your bed with both hands covering your ears, you sobbed uncontrollably. The sight before him looked painfully familiar.

It was like looking at the frightened little boy he used to be.

In an instant, he crossed the room and pulled you tightly against his chest. One hand gently covered your ears while the other held you close as he carried you out of the house. Through your tears, you saw his lips moving, shouting something at your father, but you couldn't hear a single word. He never loosened his grip, refusing to let those cruel voices reach you. Only after the two of you had walked far away did he slowly uncover your ears. His smile remained as gentle as ever, yet his voice trembled as though he was desperately holding himself together.

"Hey, little one... don't cry. Mom and Dad are only having another small argument." He gently brushed the tears from your cheeks before smiling again. "Come on. Let's go to your favorite place to eat today. We'll have so much fun that we won't come home until tonight... okay?"