Ethan survived the school day.Barely.

  Every css dragged, every hallway felt like walking underwater, every second reminded him he wasn’t… right.

  When the final bell rang, everyone else bolted outside ughing, compining about homework, talking about weekend pns.

  He just packed up slowly and went home.

  HomeThe front door clicked behind him.Quiet house.His mom wasn’t home from errands yet, dad worked te.

  Just him and—

  “Hey.”

  Mira looked up from the couch, a bnket over her p, textbook in hand. Her hair was in a messy bun, gsses perched on her nose — rare sight. That alone proved she was actually studying.

  He froze a moment too long.

  “…Hey,” he replied.

  She squinted at him. A long stare.Older sister stare.Dangerous stare.

  “You look worse than this morning.”

  “Thanks,” he muttered, dropping his bag to the floor.

  Mira didn’t tease this time. She set her textbook aside, brows lowering.

  “Ethan… you’ve been weird tely.”

  “I’m always weird,” he deflected.

  “Yeah, but usually you’re fun weird. This is like… emotionally-dying-on-the-inside weird.”

  He stiffened.

  She kept watching him, voice softening in a way that made it worse.

  “Did something happen? At school? Online? Someone say something?”

  He shook his head. “No.”

  “You’re sure?”

  He nodded.

  She clicked her tongue. “Liar.”

  Heat stung behind his eyes — not anger. Just tired. So tired.

  Mira stood and walked over, arms crossed loosely.

  “You can talk to me, you know? I’m annoying, but I’m not blind.”

  He swallowed.Words trembled in his throat. None came out.

  Mira sighed and ruffled his hair — gently this time.

  “You look like you’re trying not to fall apart.”

  He flinched.Too close.

  “…I’m just tired,” he whispered.

  Not a lie.Not the truth either.

  Her expression softened to something warm — gentle in the way only a big sister trying to be strong could be.

  “I know depression when I see it.”

  His chest tightened.

  She poked his forehead. “You're not allowed to disappear, got it? If life sucks, you tell me. I’ll fight the universe for you.”

  He almost ughed — or cried. Hard to tell.

  “You’d lose,” he murmured.

  “I’d still swing.”

  Silence sat between them.Heavy. Real.Scary and comforting.

  Mira stepped back, giving him space.

  “I won’t force you to talk today,” she said quietly. “But I’m here. Even if you think whatever’s going on is stupid or too big or too weird.”

  His heart trembled.

  She headed back to her textbook — but paused in the doorway.

  “And Ethan…?”

  He looked up.

  “Whatever you're going through, don’t carry it alone. Okay?”

  He nodded weakly.

  She disappeared into her room.

  The quiet returned.But now it felt… less crushing.

  Ethan sat there a moment, staring at nothing.

  For the first time since that neckce appeared, someone had looked at him — really looked — without knowing a thing, and said:

  I see you.Stay here.

  His breath shook.

  He wiped his eyes.

  “…I’m trying.”

  His fingers brushed the neckce hanging under his shirt — cold metal, warm promise.

  Tonight.

  Tonight he could breathe again.

  But now he knew something else too:

  Even when he was this version of himself…

  Someone still wanted him here.