(Yelena's POV)
Ever since I was just a child, barely able to utter my words properly, I knew my brother and I were different.
While I had glossy silver hair, his was black, and he was far more in tune with my parents.
Although they loved me more, it became increasingly obvious how much they bonded over him more than me.
I didn't hate it. If anything, if my brother was happy, I felt happy.
Still…
"Mother, why do I have different hair than big brother?" I asked so earnestly, swinging my legs on the chair as my mother braided my hair.
When I asked this question, I noticed my mother flinching, almost as though she never expected such a question to leave my mouth.
"Yelena, you're so small and yet so smart. Aren't you just the cutest."
My mother tickled me. I laughed. I really did laugh, but it was a way to hide it from her. Hide the fact I knew she avoided the question in the best way she could.
I had many questions.
