Chapter 6
A Glimmer of Rebellion
Sharin begins to question the fairness of her father's demands. She observes Hectorn's helplessness and starts to wonder about a future where she isn't solely responsible for his well-being.
The afternoon sun, usually a warm embrace, felt like a spotlight, exposing Sharin’s every sigh. She was twelve, an age that should have been filled with the thrill of scraped knees and whispered secrets with friends, not the dull ache of endless responsibility. Her father’s words, a familiar refrain, echoed in her mind: “You’re the older one, Sharin. Look after your brother.” It was a decree that had followed her since she was eleven, and the year before that, and the year before that. Hectorn, her eleven-year-old brother, was her shadow, a shadow that seemed to grow heavier with each passing day.
Today, the shadow had manifested in the form of a spilled glass of milk. Sharin had been meticulously arranging her collection of smooth, grey river stones on her windowsill, each one a tiny victory, a small piece of the world she could claim as her own. Then, a yelp. Hectorn, as usual, had been hovering, his wide, uncertain eyes fixed on her. He’d reached out, a tentative, clumsy movement, and sent the glass tumbling. Milk, a milky tide, spread across the wooden floor, pooling around Sharin’s bare feet.
“Hectorn!” Her voice, usually soft, had a sharp edge.
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