That night, I stayed beside him.<\/p>\n
Machines hummed softly in the background, steady and indifferent. The room smelled faintly of antiseptic and lavender. I kept holding his hand, afraid that if I let go, I\u2019d lose him all over again.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhy didn\u2019t you just tell me?\u201d I whispered.<\/p>\n
His breathing was shallow but calm. \u201cI didn\u2019t want to\u2026 ruin your life,\u201d he said slowly. \u201cYou looked happy. Safe. I just wanted to see that for myself.\u201d<\/p>\n
Tears blurred my vision. All those moments I\u2019d felt watched \u2014 planting tulips, dragging out the trash bins, laughing at the parade \u2014 he had been there. Not as a predator.<\/p>\n
As a brother making sure his little sister was okay.<\/p>\n
\u201cI was sick when I found you,\u201d he continued. \u201cDidn\u2019t have much time. I didn\u2019t know how to walk up and say, \u2018Hi, I\u2019m the brother you lost.\u2019 So I moved close. I listened. I made sure you were safe. That was enough.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cIt wasn\u2019t enough,\u201d I said gently. \u201cYou could\u2019ve had more.\u201d<\/p>\n
He smiled faintly. \u201cI have more. You\u2019re here.\u201d<\/p>\n
The nurse returned later to adjust his medication. She gave me a soft look \u2014 the kind professionals give when they\u2019ve seen this moment too many times.<\/p>\n
Just before dawn, his grip tightened slightly.<\/p>\n
\u201cAnnie,\u201d he murmured.<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m here.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cDon\u2019t be alone.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI won\u2019t,\u201d I promised.<\/p>\n
And sometime after that, with the first light creeping through the blinds, Daniel slipped away.<\/p>\n
The funeral was small.<\/p>\n
A few neighbors from the apartment building came. The woman in the bathrobe. The quiet man from next door. They told me stories about \u201cDaniel\u201d \u2014 how he volunteered to fix broken mailboxes, how he fed stray cats, how he once paid a neighbor\u2019s overdue electricity bill without leaving his name.<\/p>\n
Across the street, our old neighbors watched from their porches as I carried Jasper back into my house.<\/p>\n
The house that Daniel had chosen.<\/p>\n
Not to haunt.<\/p>\n
To protect.<\/p>\n
I kept the photos from the apartment \u2014 not the ones that made me uneasy, but the ones from public events, from parades and fairs. I put them in a box with his letter and our birth records.<\/p>\n
Proof that I hadn\u2019t imagined him.<\/p>\n
Proof that I had once been someone\u2019s little sister before I even knew the word.<\/p>\n
Jasper still runs to the door sometimes, as if expecting him to walk up the driveway again. And sometimes, when I\u2019m planting tulips or taking out the trash, I glance across the street.<\/p>\n
Not because I feel watched.<\/p>\n
But because, for a little while, I was.<\/p>\n
And it turns out, I was loved.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"