Lina

"Father, let me work even if it's over time just to save Ethan," I cried out, my voice shaking, my hands trembling, and my heart aching like someone was pressing it too hard.

Tears rolled down my cheeks like heavy rain pouring from the sky. I didn’t care to wipe them. I couldn’t. My chest hurt so much I could barely breathe. I dropped down to my knees beside Ethan. He was lying still on that old torn cushion in our small living room, the same one we used to play on when we were kids. But today, it felt like a bed of pain.

His face was pale, his lips were dry, and his small chest rose and fell so slowly like it could stop at any time. I touched his hand, praying it would be warm, praying it would give me hope. But it was cold. Ice cold.

"Father please," I begged again. My voice cracked and broke like my heart. I turned to look at my father.

He just stood there. He didn’t move. He didn’t say a word. His hands were clenched into fists by his side. His eyes looked far away like he was lost in thoughts that he couldn’t speak of. I could see he was trying to be strong, but I saw it in his eyes. That pain. That helplessness. That sadness he carried since Mama died.

"Lina," he finally said. His voice was soft, but there was a heaviness in it, like it was carrying too much. He came close to me and knelt beside me. He held my face gently in both his hands. His touch was warm but shaking.

"My baby girl," he said again. His lips quivered. His eyes were red. "I understand you. You think I don’t want to save your brother? You think I’m just letting him lie here like this? But look..."

He paused and took a deep breath. He looked deep into my eyes like he wanted me to understand his soul.

"That place you are going to work from will earn you so much more than washing dishes in diners. I hate it, Lina. I hate everything about this. But what other choice do we have?"

I pulled away from his hands. I wiped my face with my palm, but the tears just kept coming. I couldn’t stop them.

"But Father, no," I said, shaking my head slowly. "I’m the one who can take care of Ethan properly. You’re too old to do that now. You can’t carry him to the hospital if anything goes wrong. You won’t even hear him if he cries out in pain. Don’t just make me leave Ethan like this. He needs me."

I looked at Ethan again. My baby brother. The one who used to follow me around like a little shadow. The one who always smiled even when we had no food. The one who held my hand when Mama died and told me everything would be okay, even though he was just a child.

"He needs me," I said again, almost in a whisper.

Father wiped his eyes quickly, but I had already seen his tears. It hurt more to see him cry because I knew he only cried when the pain was too much to bear.

"You think it doesn’t kill me to watch him like this?" he asked, his voice suddenly rising. "You think it doesn’t break me that I can’t give my own son the medicine he needs? That I can’t even take him to the hospital because we have no money?"

I stayed silent. I didn’t know what to say.

"I have tried, Lina. I have tried every single way. I went to people I swore I’d never talk to again. I begged. I cried. I did everything. But nobody helped. Nobody."

I could hear the anger and frustration in his voice, but more than that, I could hear the pain. So much pain.

"And then they came," he continued, his voice softer now. "They came and said they would pay us. Pay us well. Enough to treat Ethan. Enough to even buy him a new bed, new clothes, and proper food. But only if you go and work for them."

I turned my face away. I didn’t want him to see me cry again. But the tears betrayed me.

"To work for people I haven't met?" I asked.

He didn’t answer. He just looked at me with eyes that had seen too much.

Ethan made a sound. A soft one.

I turned back quickly and crawled closer to him. I held his cold hand tighter.

"Ethan, can you hear me?" I asked, my voice trembling.

His eyes opened. Very slowly. He looked at me, and for a moment, I saw something peaceful in them. Like he wasn’t scared. Like he already knew.

"Lina," he whispered. His voice was so low I had to lean closer. "Please do as Father said. Just for me to stay alive. They will pay so much"

"No, Ethan, please don’t say that," I said quickly, brushing his hair back. "Don’t send me away. Don’t ask me to leave you. You know I’ll go mad without you."

He smiled. It was weak. But it was a smile.

"You’re not leaving me," he said. "You’re saving me. That’s different."

I bent my head and covered my face with my hands. I wanted to scream. I wanted to tell the world this was unfair. That I didn’t want this life. That I didn’t want to choose between my brother and myself. But all I could do was cry.

My whole body was shaking. My heart was beating so loud I thought it would explode. I couldn’t breathe. I didn’t want to go. I didn’t want to leave.

Then there was a knock on the door.

A loud one. A strong one. A serious one.

We all turned. My body froze.

Father stood up quickly. He wiped his face again and walked to the corner. He picked up my bag. The one I had packed earlier when he told me to. The one I had hidden, hoping I wouldn’t need it.

He walked towards me and held my hand. I looked at him. He looked so tired. So old. But he still tried to smile.

"My beautiful daughter," he said, his voice breaking. "Grab your bag. They are here."

My heart jumped. My hands started shaking again. My legs felt weak. It wasn’t supposed to be now. I thought I had more time. I wasn’t ready.

But they were here. And once I go, there’s no turning back.

I looked at Ethan one last time.

He gave me a small nod. A very small one. But it meant everything.

Another knock came again. Louder this time.

"What’s keeping you in there, Mr. Hillary! Do not keep us waiting," a man shouted from outside. His voice was angry. Strong. Sharp like a blade.

My heart skipped a beat. I felt cold all over. That voice didn’t sound nice. It sounded like someone who wouldn’t care if I cried. Someone who wouldn’t listen if I begged.

I took a deep breath. I wiped my face again. I stood straight. I tried to smile. But it was fake. Very fake.

Then I opened the door.

"Here am I, sir"