Raphael's POVTwenty-four years ago. I was eleven, Marcel was six years old. **FLASHBACK**

"Mom, Dad, look what Gramps and Grandma got for both of us," I said, running into the living room from the elevator. Marcel, on the other hand, dragged his feet on the ground.

He walked like someone who had the weight of the whole world on his shoulders. Before we got to the elevator, I had been asking him what was wrong, but he just kept mute.

"Where's Marcel!" Mom asked, without taking a glimpse at me. ...