"I should have been there," she whispered, her voice cracking beneath the weight of guilt and remembered helplessness. "I should have protected you both."
"No," both brothers spoke in unison, their hands squeezed hers with the desperate certainty of drowning men grasping lifelines. The gesture carried echoes of childhood comfort, now weighted with darker understanding that made it both more precious and more painful.
Li Hua sat up suddenly, pulling her brothers into her arms with fierce protectiveness. Their familiar warmth against her felt like both blessing and accusation. "I'm so sorry," she whispered into the space between heartbeats, her words carrying days of unspoken fear and years of love. "I won't let you ever go through that again. We will stick together. Always."
Her brothers' hands settled against her back, their touch gentle as if she were the one who needed comfort. The irony of it made her heart ache.