Vetle.
That name is the corner of my heart I least wish to touch.
He is Ruby’s son.
Because Evelyn and Ruby are close, I met him often as a child. At that time, he always seemed like a gentle big brother.
When I fell, he reached out to pull me out of the mud; when I cried, he used a handkerchief to wipe my tears.
We once raised a little bird together. Every day, we took turns feeding it, watching it flap its wings and fly in the sunlight.
I thought that period of time would always be bright.
Until that day.
I clearly saw him holding the little bird in his hands.
The feathers were covered in blood, its wings trembling weakly, on the verge of death.
I didn't ask why. I just ran.
Since then, I haven't said a word to him.
Now, seeing him again, he looks down at me, pity clouding hi
