Chris watched quietly as his parents spoke to his younger sister.
Julie sat between them, her tear-streaked face gently cradled by their mother's hands. She tried to smile—tried to look okay—but Chris could see it. The sadness lingering in her eyes. The way her once-bright gaze now seemed dull, as if something had been taken from her.
She didn't need to say anything.
That word echoed in his mind again.
Fat.
Chris was only a year older than Julie, but he had always been sensitive to her moods. He knew when something was wrong—even when she tried to hide it.
Is she really fine at school? he wondered.
Peeking through the door, he saw their mother tending to Julie's bruises. He entered quietly.
"Chris," his mother said softly when she noticed him.
"What happened to Julie, Mom?" he asked, his voice tight with worry.
"They said she fought with a classmate," his mother sighed. "That she pushed her and caused trouble in the classroom."
Chris frowned.
Julie? Start a fight?That didn't make sense.
"Mom… what did Dad say?" he asked as he helped clean Julie's wounds. He leaned closer and whispered, "It'll sting a little, but you'll be okay. I promise."
Julie nodded faintly, managing a small smile that made their mother's heart ache.
"Your dad said the other child's parents were furious," their mother continued. "They insist Julie hurt their daughter."
Chris clenched his jaw.
"Mom," he said seriously, "do you and Dad believe that?"
Their mother paused—then shook her head. "Of course not. I don't believe it."
Chris turned to his sister. "Julie… did you really do it?"
Julie shook her head. Tears rolled down her cheeks.
"No, brother," she whispered. "I was just drawing. Then they came. They called me a pig… they threw my things away. I wasn't fighting them—I just wanted to pick them up. Then they pulled my hair. All three of them. I only pushed Veronica because I wanted to get away… then the teacher came."
Chris froze.
Pig.
That word again.
"Oh, my baby…" their mother murmured, pulling Julie into a tight embrace.
"So Veronica started it?" Chris asked quietly.
Julie nodded.
"Then why did you tell Mommy no one was teasing you?" their mother asked gently.
Julie's lips trembled. "I didn't want you to worry. I didn't want you and Daddy to feel bad."
Her mother's voice broke. "Of course we'll worry. You're our child. We'll always protect you."
Chris knew there was still more Julie hadn't said.
"Julie, sweetheart," their father called softly as he entered the room.
"D–Dad…" Julie whimpered. "I'm sorry."
"Don't say sorry," her father said gently, kneeling in front of her. "Daddy's not mad. We just need the truth. Did you really play with your food like they said?"
"No," Julie shook her head. "I always eat what Mom packs. It makes me feel safe. But sometimes they throw it away. My crayons too… I find them in the trash."
Their mother's hands shook as she clenched them.
"And the wounds on your lips?" Chris asked softly. "Did they do that?"
Julie nodded, barely audible. "They pushed the dirty food into my face."
Their mother closed her eyes as tears fell.
"I can't let this continue," she whispered to her husband.
"We'll talk to the adviser," her father said calmly—but firmly.
"D–Dad… M–Mom," Julie asked shakily, "you believe me?"
Her parents exchanged a glance—then smiled warmly.
"Of course we do," Chris said, brushing her cheek. "You've never lied to us. And you're not someone who hurts others."
He kissed her forehead. "We believe you."
"Brother…" Julie whispered, hugging him tightly.
"I'm sorry I wasn't there to protect you," he said, holding her close.
Julie eventually fell asleep, exhausted from crying. Their mother stayed beside her, watching over her with worried eyes.
"Don't blame yourself," her father said softly, squeezing her hand.
"She's too innocent for this," their mother whispered. "If only we'd enrolled her in St. Benedict sooner…"
"I should've noticed earlier," her father sighed. "I believed her smiles too easily."
"Mom. Dad," Chris said quietly, "please don't say that in front of her. She'll blame herself."
They nodded in silence.
That evening, their mother called out, "Chris, can you wake your sister? Dinner's ready."
"Yes, Mom."
Chris clenched his small fists as he climbed the stairs.
I won't let them hurt her again.
When he entered Julie's room, his heart dropped.
She was crying in her sleep.
"I didn't do anything wrong…" she whimpered.
Chris rushed to her side, wiping her tears.
"Julie, wake up," he whispered gently.
Her eyes fluttered open. "Brother…" She hugged him tightly. "I don't want to go back there."
"I know," he said softly, stroking her hair. "But you're strong. I believe in you."
She smiled weakly. "Thank you, brother."
That smile—fragile, but bright—felt like sunshine breaking through clouds.
Chris held onto it, silently making a promise.
No matter what happens…I'll protect her.
Downstairs, Julie laughed again as they ate dinner, as if nothing had happened.
Chris watched her carefully.
Deep inside, he knew—
This wasn't over yet.