Ara had been putting off cleaning the attic for months. It was a dreary, forgotten space, filled with dust-covered boxes and memories long left untouched. She had been making steady progress, sorting through old clothes, trinkets, and faded keepsakes when she noticed a box she didn't recognize.
Unlike the others, which were neatly labeled in her mother's careful handwriting, this one was plain, unmarked, and tucked away in the farthest corner, as if someone had meant for it to be forgotten.
Curiosity stirred within her. She pulled it closer, brushing off the thin layer of dust before lifting the lid. The scent of old paper filled the air as she sifted through its contents... photographs, folded letters, and a few small objects... a pocket watch, a child's drawing, a delicate silver necklace with a tiny star-shaped charm.
She reached for one of the photographs and froze.
It was her parents. Younger, standing side by side, their expressions unreadable. And beside them stood a boy, no older than one or two, with dark, thoughtful eyes and a shy smile.
Ara's brows knitted together. She didn't recognize him.
Who was he?
Her heart pounded as she unfolded one of the letters, the familiar handwriting making her breath hitch. It was her mother's. The tone was formal, detached, even cold.
Dear Renjun,
We have made our decision, and we believe this is for the best. You are old enough to understand that life doesn't always turn out the way we expect. We hope you will grow up to be strong and independent, but we cannot support you anymore. Take care of yourself.
- Mother
Ara felt a chill crawl down her spine.
Renjun.
The name sounded familiar, like a whisper at the back of her mind. But as she dug deeper into the box, scanning through the letters, the truth became undeniable. Letter after letter, each addressed to the same boy, painted a heartbreaking picture of a child who had been cast aside... not because of anything he had done, but because he didn't fit into the life their parents had planned.
And then, like a puzzle snapping into place, she saw it. The boy in the photograph. The name in the letters.
Renjun.
Huang Renjun.
The Renjun she knew. The Renjun she had laughed with, sat beside in class, shared countless moments with.
The Renjun who, all this time, had been her brother.
Ara's hands trembled as she clutched the photograph, her mind racing. How had this happened? Why had no one told her? And most importantly... did Renjun know? Had he recognized her from the start?
A wave of emotions crashed over her... shock, confusion, guilt. But underneath it all, one question burned brighter than the rest.
What was she supposed to do now?
