Chapter 3

One week before Ethan was set to leave for Francoria, he began making a huge production out of packing for his trip.

The door to my storage room was thrown open just as I was reviewing my student loan application.

Ethan walked in wearing a pair of expensive limited-edition sneakers and immediately waved a hand in front of his nose.

"Why does this room smell so musty?"

His eyes wandered around the room before settling on the wooden box sitting on my desk.

It was the last thing Grandma had left me. Inside was an old Leica camera.

Before she passed away, she had told me, "When you grow up, get out and see the world. Use this to record your own life."

Ethan's eyes lit up. Without asking, he walked over, picked up the box, and opened it.

"This camera looks so vintage. It'll be perfect to take to Parish as a photography prop."

He reached inside and took out the camera as if it already belonged to him.

"Put it down." I stood up and grabbed his wrist.

"Grandma left that to me. You don't get to touch it."

Ethan immediately frowned and pretended I was hurting him.

"Julian, you're squeezing way too hard.

"I'm only borrowing it. It's not like I'm going to break it. Why are you so stingy?"

The commotion quickly drew our parents from the living room.

Mom rushed in, saw me holding Ethan's wrist, and slapped the back of my hand without a second thought.

"Julian! What are you doing? Let go of him!"

The sting made my hand loosen.

Ethan instantly stepped behind Mom, rubbing his wrist as though he had been injured.

"Mom, I liked that old camera. I just wanted to bring it to Francoria to shoot some photos, but Julian got mad at me..."

Dad walked in with a frown.

When he saw the Leica on the desk, he simply shook his head.

"I thought it was something valuable. It's just an old camera from decades ago."

He looked at me, already slipping into lecture mode.

"Julian, let's analyze this based on practical value.

"Ethan is going to one of the world's artistic capitals. In his hands, this camera will have the greatest social and artistic value.

"You're studying education. You'll spend all your time buried in classrooms and textbooks. Giving the camera to you is a complete waste."

I took a slow breath. Something inside my chest felt like it was cracking apart.

"I already told you. It's the keepsake Grandma left to me." I repeated every word carefully, hoping to awaken even the tiniest bit of humanity in them.

Mom let out a harsh laugh as if I had said something ridiculous.

"So what if it's a keepsake? Things are meant to be used.

"I thought you’ve always been the practical one. You never cared about sentimental nonsense.

“Why are you suddenly treating an object as if it's more important than a person?

"Ethan is going to another country all by himself. He needs something from home to keep him company. Give him the camera.

“Think of it as something you can do for your brother."

‘Brotherly love?’

What a beautiful excuse.

‘Putting it to good use?’

Another beautiful excuse.

Ethan peeked out from behind Mom, wearing his usual considerate smile. "Julian, if you really can't bear to part with it, I'll trade you my old phone.

"Deal?

"Your phone barely works anymore anyway."

His words were light, but they cut deeper than any insult.

My phone screen was covered in cracks. Sometimes it took several tries just to send a text.

Meanwhile, Ethan always got the newest iPhone the day it came out.

I did not even look at the old phone he held out. I simply looked at the three people standing in front of me.

Together, they formed a wall so solid that nothing could get through. Every bit of love and protection stayed on their side.

I was completely shut out.

"Fine. Do whatever you want."

I turned away without another glance and lowered my head to continue organizing my paperwork.

The moment they took the camera away, I suddenly felt strangely relieved. There was nothing left in this house that they could take from me.

They had taken my academic scholarship. They had taken every bit of care they could have given me.

Now, they had turned the theft of Grandma's camera into yet another ‘lesson’ about family.

Time and again, they had reminded me of the same painful truth: I had never truly belonged in this family.

That night, I heard Ethan talking with his friends on a voice call in the living room.

"Oh, this camera? My little brother insisted on giving it to me.

"It would've been wasted on him anyway. He doesn't know how to appreciate something this nice. It's better off with me."

I sat alone in the darkness of the storage room.

The laughter from outside drifted through the walls. I did not shed a single tear.

Instead, I opened the Notes app on my phone and typed one sentence.

[Three days until I leave.]

I stopped trying to argue. I stopped hoping anyone would understand.

Every disappointment became another brick in the wall I built around myself until it was finally high enough and strong enough to keep them from hurting me ever again.