“What?”
Daniel took a slow breath.
“Noah.”
The world spun.
Ethan let out a broken sound—half laugh, half sob.
“Noah…”
Daniel looked up.
“How do you know that name?”
Ethan stepped closer.
Now they stood just feet apart.
“Because I called you that for eight years.”
Daniel frowned.
“What?”
Ethan’s voice trembled.
“I’m your brother.”
Silence.
The mechanic froze.
“My brother…?”
Ethan nodded.
“I used to call you my little champ.”
Daniel dropped the rag in his hand.
The words echoed inside him like thunder.
A memory.
A field.
A soccer ball.
An older boy laughing.
“My little champ! Run faster!”
Daniel pressed a hand to his head.
“I… I remember…”
He stepped back, overwhelmed.
“This can’t be real.”
Ethan slowly reached into his pocket.
He pulled out a small object.
An old toy airplane.
Daniel’s eyes widened.
“That… that was mine.”
“You never slept without it,” Ethan said softly.
And suddenly, everything came back.
The park.
The crowd.
The moment his hand slipped away.
Then darkness.
Daniel covered his face.
“Ethan…?”
Tears filled Ethan’s eyes.
“Yes.”
For one long second, they just looked at each other.
Then Daniel crossed the room in two steps—
and pulled his brother into a tight embrace.
As if trying to make up for thirty lost years.