That night I saved her from falling from the rooftop.
She had nowhere to go, so I took her in.
There was only one bed in the small single room, and she curled up in my arms and cried all night.
Half asleep, she turned over and kissed me.
She trembled and whispered in my ear: "Don't go... Please..."
I know that she regards me as the scumbag who hurt her so deeply.
But I still hugged her back tightly.
When she woke up the next day, she was hiding from me with a red face.
But I smiled and leaned close to her ear: "Sister, aren't you going to take responsibility for what happened last night?"
She doesn't know that I have a photo of her scumbag boyfriend in my phone—that's my brother.
