"It's a long story, but the short version is: your little brother isn't so little anymore."
Sacha stared at him.
The boy she'd fed and clothed and supported since elementary school. The brother she'd skipped meals for, worked overtime for, cried in the dark for. The person she'd poured every spare dollar and every spare ounce of energy into, year after year, sacrifice after sacrifice, without ever once asking for anything in return.
He was standing in front of her now, taller than she remembered, steadier than she'd ever seen him, wearing an expression of quiet, fierce, unshakable certainty, and he had just walked into her office, punched her tormentor in the face, fired him on the spot, and handed her his job.
Sacha crossed the distance between them in two steps and threw her arms around him.
