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Simon wasn't perched on the bed like he used to, but at his desk. The voices from the kitchen were clearly heard, the screams were heard all the way to the neighbors. But he had learned to ignore them. Mom and Dad fought about something again, and now Dad seemed to have given up. They yelled at each other, blamed each other.
He heard clumsy steps in the stairs, and right as it was Aline was standing in the doorway, crying red. She ran forward to him where he sat. He saw how the big lump in her throat grew, and finally she couldn't take it anymore, but burst out in tears.
Simon hurried down the chair and embraced his little sister in a big, warming hug. He knew why she was sad. He knew she hated when their parents were arguing. But he also knew that there was nothing he could do about it. Except one thing.
He took her with him down to the hall where he took out her jacket and helped her put it on. He did not put on his own. Then he led her out of the house and up on the roof. They climbed a ladder that Simon placed against the house wall. He held her hand all the time. They sat down with their backs against the chimney, looked up at the nightblack sky. He actually wasn't allowed to take her up here, but Simon honestly didn't care. He was only trying to make her happy. And it worked.

 And it worked

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