Chapter 6: What the Wolf Remembers

Finally, daylight broke, like being pulled up from the depths of the sea.

I squinted against the bright sunlight, and a childish voice sounded in my ear—

"Sam! Did you bring anything good for Charlie today?"

I forced my eyes open and saw a chubby little girl leaping into the arms of a handsome young boy.

He easily lifted her up with both hands, laughing, "Charlie, guess what I brought you?"

I circled behind him, spotting the little hand drum hanging from his belt.

Yes, ever since I could remember, my brother always brought me strange little trinkets to make me happy. Even as I grew up, he never stopped. His love was quiet, steady, always there.

My racing heart gradually calmed. Just as I wanted to get a better look at the boy from my memories, I was swept into another vision.

When I opened my eyes again, the scene had changed.

It was the same two children, but the boy’s features were clearer, hinting at the resolute man he’d become.

Patiently, he comforted the little girl crying on his back.

I remembered—this was when my brother took me north to our uncle.

I heard the little girl ask, "Can I be Sam’s little wife when I grow up?"

My heart skipped. The boy’s steps faltered.

He was silent for a long time, until the girl tugged his hair impatiently.

"Why does Charlie want to be Sam’s wife?"

Her dark eyes were full of confusion. She buried her face in his shoulder, mumbling, "You’re all I have… I want Sam to stay with me forever…"

"Alright." His eyes were gentle. He freed one hand to support her, then raised three fingers and solemnly vowed, "I swear, cross my heart, I’ll always look out for Charlie. If I break my promise, may I get struck by lightning."

The little girl didn’t understand, just scrunched up her face. "What’s Sam saying?"

"Making a promise to Charlie."

"What promise?"

"Wherever Charlie is, Sam will be there."

The boy’s white shirt was bright as snow, the hills stretching behind him. His sincere words, though the little girl didn’t remember them, stuck with me—burning into the softest part of my heart.

Brother, what am I supposed to do with you?

Fate is strange. I was both lucky and unlucky to witness fleeting moments of his life from afar.

In Maple Heights, early spring, grass grew and robins sang. Sam clutched his new silver hair clip, hoping she’d like it.

He walked through winding corridors, spring sunlight gilding his shirt with gold. His eyes locked on the girl swinging in the garden.

As expected, she leapt off the swing, calling, "Sam!"

Sam opened his arms, catching her easily.

She tiptoed up and whispered, "Sam, Mason wants to propose!"

Clinging to his arm, she pleaded, "Will you agree? Please, please, please…"

For a moment, Sam was dazed. When had the little girl who could barely walk grown up enough to marry?

He stared at her, wanting to ask—what about Sam?

But her smile was brighter than all the spring flowers. She looked at him, full of hope and caution.

His heart ached. Her sweetness was for someone else. Afraid to disappoint her, he forced down his bitterness and asked, "Charlie, are you sure?"

She nodded, eyes sparkling like stars. "Sam, you agree?!"

He choked up, unable to speak, and could only nod.

Her eyes shone even brighter.

Back then, he thought his sense of loss was like a dad not wanting to see his little girl grow up.

After the engagement, he picked a day to haul Mason into his study and give him a stern talking-to.

Even though the boy was all smiles and bows, Sam still found fault with everything he did.

He tapped the table with his finger. "You can marry Charlie, but only if you promise me one thing."

The young man thumped his chest. "Say it, Sam, whatever it is, I promise!"

"Who’s your brother?" Sam’s face darkened. Those words stung no matter how he heard them.

But the boy just grinned wider. "Got it, Sam!"

Sam could only grit his teeth.

He composed himself. "You can only have Charlie in this life. Love her, respect her, make her happy."

"If you dare break this…"

Before he finished, the boy unfastened the small knife at his belt and slapped it onto the table.

"If I break my word, I’ll end it myself."

The brash youth seemed to grow up overnight. He still joked with his beloved little sister, making her blush, but more often, he threw himself wholeheartedly into the ordinary details of life.

At some point, the things Charlie said to him changed:

"Sam, today Mason brought me lemon bars—he made them himself! They don’t look great, but they taste amazing! He said he’ll make them for me forever!"

"Sam, look!" She held up a grasshopper made from pipe cleaners. "Mason made this for me. I just mentioned it and he remembered!"

"Sam, look at my brows—see anything different? Mason did my makeup. His hands shook so much, he looked like a fool!"

"Sam, today Mason…"

It was always about Mason. Sam felt sour, so he said, "He only knows how to fool you with tricks. Hasn’t your brother done all these things for you, too? Why aren’t you this happy with me?"

She stuck out her tongue, grinning. "It’s not the same!"

He pressed, "How not?"

She thought for a while, then huffed, "It just isn’t!"

Suddenly, she looked lost, tugging his sleeve. "Sam, do you think Mason will always love me?"

She didn’t need his answer—she already knew.

Sam patted her head. "No matter what, Charlie, I won’t change."

"Like the sun coming up every morning, I’ll always love you."

Even though the boy had grown, proving his heart with countless actions, Sam still worried.

He kept asking himself: Could that boy really treat Charlie as well as I do?

Until one snowy winter, his little sister fell ill and lay listless in bed.

The young man rushed from base, brought medicine, and tended her bedside.

He coaxed her to drink, but she vomited all over him.

Both were stunned. Her eyes were red and puffy.

The boy quickly recovered, taking off his coat and hugging her.

Sam watched from behind the door as the boy said, "Why are you crying? I’m not mad at you."

He pressed his forehead to hers. "You’re so annoying, always crying to get my attention. We’ll be husband and wife soon—taking care of you is just taking care of myself."

Sam scoffed and left. Maybe the boy was reliable after all. He should have felt relieved, but all he felt was jealousy.

He couldn’t say when, but at some point, brother stopped being just brother.

Maybe it was every year together, every time she called him brother in that sweet voice. He’d taught her to walk and read, let her be as willful as she liked. He’d gotten used to having her by his side, but now she’d grown up and wouldn’t hide in his arms anymore.

War broke out overseas. Masons unit was sent to the front.

His little sister followed the convoy for as long as she could, finally sitting on the ground, head on her knees.

She asked, "Sam, he’ll come back and marry me, right?"

He wrapped her frail hand in his. "He will."

Sam saved up everything he had for her wedding—she was his pearl, deserving of the best.

He wanted her to marry in style, to be the most beautiful bride in Maple Heights.

The war dragged on for five years, ending with his units victory.

They crushed the enemy, took the leader’s flag as a trophy, reclaimed lost ground, and sent a warning to all lurking enemies.

The city erupted in celebration. Sam shielded Charlie with his arm, keeping her safe in the crowd.

She strained on tiptoe, searching for her beloved, but could only see the backs of heads.

Not wanting her to be disappointed, Sam lifted her onto his shoulders.

"Can you see now?"

She nodded. "Sam, you’re the best!"

He sighed. "My Charlie, you’re so stubborn. I reserved a spot for you in the best balcony, but you insisted on joining the crowd."

She didn’t look at him. "The view’s good up there, but too far from Mason."

"As long as I can see him, that’s enough. It’s been so long since I saw him—I want to remember what he looks like now."

Sam’s heart ached, bitterness rising to his tongue. He wanted to ask: Charlie, if I weren’t your brother, would you ever fall for me?

He’d thought it a thousand times, but always swallowed it. Even if he wasn’t her blood brother, what difference did it make? It would only trouble her. Besides, watching her happy was its own kind of happiness.

He decided to always be her shield.

Then, he felt her trembling on his shoulders. Looking up, he saw her face was pale, streaked with tears.

Not tears of joy…

Her eyes were empty, lost.

Alarmed, he looked ahead.

The crowd cheered wildly for the young captain on the red motorcycle. After the battlefield, the boy had become a true man.

He led the procession in dress blues, red scarf blazing in the sun.

But riding with him was a girl in pink, her face glowing. Mason’s arm was around her waist, his gaze tender and attentive.

Sam’s eyes turned cold. He bit his tongue until it bled, the taste flooding his mouth.

When the Reed family came to break off the engagement, Sam flew into a rage and drove them out. His eyes were icy.

The family friend, terrified, stammered, but Sam said coolly, "Give your boss a message. Ask if he remembers his old vow."

This was the oldest story—a faithful girl and a faithless man. But it should never have happened to his Charlie.

Sam idly played with a coffee cup, listening as Mason recounted how he met someone new, struggled with his feelings, and finally chose between two girls.

"Heh—" Sam sneered. Since when did his precious girl become someone to be chosen?

He set down the cup with a sharp clink. "Captain Reed, I didn’t invite you here to reminisce, or care about your feelings. I have one question—does your promise still count?"

No one who hurt his Charlie would walk away unscathed.

Mason smiled. "Of course."

His aide, Lin, gasped, "Captain, dont!"

Mason waved him off, then bowed to Sam. "Sam, I’ve wronged Charlie."

He stabbed himself in the chest, blood soaking his shirt.

But even then, Sam found his hatred didn’t lessen—it only grew, devouring his last shred of reason.

He stepped forward, grabbed Mason’s collar, and punched him over and over in the gut.

Lin tried to intervene, but Mason stopped him.

To Sam, it was all a joke. Hurting himself was just to ease his own guilt.

Only by cutting ties could he move on. How convenient.

In that moment, Sam was like a raging wolf, all his violence unleashed. Only when a familiar voice called did he stop.

He turned, trembling, to see Charlie at the door, gaunt and pale, with dark circles under her eyes. She looked at Mason with a flicker of emotion.

Her voice was hoarse, like an old woman’s.

"Sam, stop…"

It was the first thing she’d said in days. Since then, she’d been silent, hiding her face, refusing to eat or speak.

Now, Mason didn’t have to do anything—she’d come out of her shell for him.

He’d always known she never needed him.

Sam watched her try to help Mason up, but he pushed her away.

He heard his beloved little sister ask, "Mason, did you ever love me?"

"I did."

"Then… why not anymore?"

"Because I met someone else. I couldn’t let her go, so I had to let you down."

Mason tore a piece from his shirt, smiling weakly as he offered it to her.

"Charlie Reed, from now on, we’ll go our separate ways. I’ll make it up to you in another life."

She trembled, tears falling, but didn’t take the cloth. Instead, she turned to her brother. "Sam, hurry and get someone to treat his wounds…"

Mason staggered, Lin supporting him. He wiped the blood from his lips and said coldly, "It’s not fatal. Don’t trouble yourself."

Those few words cut their past clean. When a man hardens his heart, not even wild horses could drag him back.

On Mason’s wedding day, the procession was grand and lively.

Charlie snuck out of the house in disguise, blending into the crowd.

He rode at the front in wedding attire, grinning ear to ear.

Still the proud, brash youth—never hiding, never lying, never betraying his heart.

Charlie crouched in pain. From then on, half her heart was gone.

If you never knew longing, you’d never be troubled by it.

In a dark alley, Sam watched the small figure shivering in the cold. He bit his tongue until his mouth filled with blood.

He stepped out of the shadows, stubborn and forceful, and hugged Charlie from behind.

He had a thousand things to say, wanted to promise her forever. But now, she didn’t need another lover. Mason had destroyed her dream, and he couldn’t destroy her trust in her brother.

So he just held her, resting his chin on her head.

"Charlie, Mason’s heart has changed. Your heartbreak means nothing to him, just a burden to his future happiness. But to your brother…"

He turned her to face him, pressing her hand to his chest.

"But to your brother, it’s like being sliced open, bleeding with every cut."

"Charlie, your brother only has you. Do you want him to lose everything?"

…

I woke to find my brother sleeping beside me, exhausted.

Even in his dreams, he held my hand tightly. When I moved, he woke up immediately.

His clothes were wrinkled, his handsome face marked with red lines—it was almost funny.

His eyes were bloodshot, stubble on his chin. I’d never seen him so disheveled.

Did he really love me that much? The thought was terrifying and comforting all at once.

I reached out, touching his brow. He was young and full of life, but his eyes were as gentle and calm as the old man in my dream.

He’d never guess that I’d seen glimpses of his other life in such a strange way.

When he saw me awake, he was so moved he cried. His voice trembled. "Charlie… do you know how long you slept?"

His shoulders slumped. He wanted to hug me, but pulled back at the last moment.

My eyes burned. When had my brother ever been so humble? Or maybe, he’d always been this way.

"Charlie, don’t cry… If you hate your brother, he can…"

I shook my head, covering his lips with my hand.

I said, "Sam, I had a dream.

In it, I was so old, and you were an old man with white hair.

I was still causing trouble, forgetting everything, even more childish than before. My clothes were torn, and I insisted you fix them…

But you were so old, your eyes blurry, your hands shaking… no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t thread the needle. I got mad and said I didn’t want you anymore…

You were so sad then…"

My brother pressed his lips together, face tense, tears falling as he buried his face in my palm.

"Charlie, your brother can be your brother forever…

Even if you forget, okay?"

I didn’t answer. I struggled to sit up and hugged him tight.

And my strong, calm brother sobbed like a child in my arms. His tears soaked my shoulder, warm and real.