NATHAN’S POV
I sat beside my brother’s bed, my hands clasped tightly together as I watched his chest rise and fall. His face was calm, almost too calm, but I knew better. He drifted in and out of consciousness, slipping away from me little by little.
The doctors had told me not to worry. They said he would be fine. But I could not stop worrying. Dallas was the only family I had left.
Our parents died when we were still children. My mother died while giving birth to me. Nine years later, my father followed her after a fierce fever burned through his body. I still remembered his last words, spoken with a weak voice and trembling hands.
“Take care of your brother. No matter the situation.”
Then he was gone.
From that day on, it was just the two of us. Dallas became everything. Brother.
