The first winter after their parents' death was the harshest 15-year-old Elias had ever faced. He pulled his tattered jacket tighter around his frail body, glancing at his 10-year-old sister, Lila, who sat beside him on the freezing pavement. Her sightless eyes gazed ahead as if she could see the snow falling in soft, muffling blankets around them.
Lila's small hands clutched Elias's arm, her only anchor in a world that had stolen their parents and denied them refuge. They had gone from relative to relative, only to be met with pitying stares and excuses about finances or limited space. When the last door shut, Elias made a silent promise: no matter what, he would take care of Lila.
Lila's blindness had always been her greatest vulnerability but also her most extraordinary gift. Her voice—pure and haunting—had a way of making strangers stop and listen. Elias, desperate to keep them fed, hatched a plan one night as they sat beneath the glow of a flickering streetlight.
"We’ll sing, Lila," he said, brushing her damp hair from her face. "Your voice can bring in money. People will stop to listen, and they’ll help us."
"But I’m scared," she whispered.
"You don’t have to be. I’ll be right here with you," Elias reassured her.
The next day, armed with an old guitar Elias found near a dumpster, they set up near the entrance of a bustling subway station. Lila’s voice cut through the din of city life like a bird’s song piercing through a storm. Passersby stopped, their hurried steps faltering, captivated by the blind girl with a voice that seemed otherworldly. Coins and small bills clinked into the open guitar case.
For a while, it worked. They had enough for food, a warm blanket, and the occasional cheap motel room. Elias played his part, strumming simple chords to accompany Lila, his heart swelling with pride each time she sang.
One evening, as they were finishing a song, a sharply dressed woman approached. She had a warm smile but calculating eyes.
"You have a beautiful gift, young lady," she said, kneeling to meet Lila’s face. "I’m Clara Mitchell, a talent manager. I’d like to help you become a star."
Lila turned toward Elias, her face a mix of wonder and trepidation.
"Only if my brother says yes," she replied firmly.
Elias hesitated. He didn’t trust Clara’s polished demeanor, but the opportunity was undeniable. Lila could have a better life, something he could never give her.
"Alright," he said, forcing a smile. "But I’ll stay with her."
Clara nodded, but Elias caught a fleeting flicker of annoyance in her expression.
The next week, Lila signed her first contract. Her transformation was swift—new clothes, polished interviews, professional photoshoots. Elias stayed by her side, his protective instincts sharper than ever.
But soon, cracks began to form. Clara and her team insisted on “fine-tuning” Lila’s public image. They claimed Elias’s presence was “problematic.”
One day, when Elias arrived at the studio, security barred him from entering. Clara met him outside, her expression cold.
"Lila doesn’t want you here," she said.
Elias’s stomach dropped. "That’s not true."
Clara sighed. "It is. She’s moving on. This is her chance to make something of herself. Don’t hold her back."
Elias clenched his fists. "She’s my sister."
"Then prove it by letting her go," Clara snapped. "She deserves this, Elias. Don’t ruin it for her."
When he refused to leave, they called the police. Elias stood frozen, tears burning his eyes as the officers escorted him away.
Lila, meanwhile, was fed a different story. Clara told her Elias had taken a bribe to disappear.
"He said he didn’t want to live in your shadow," Clara lied. "He’s gone, Lila. You have to focus on your career now."
Lila wept, her heart breaking in ways she didn’t know were possible. But Clara and the PR team were relentless.
"Don’t talk about him in interviews," they instructed. "He’s not part of your story anymore."
Months turned into years. Lila’s fame skyrocketed. Her albums topped charts, her voice earning accolades worldwide. But every song she sang felt hollow. Every accolade reminded her of the brother she’d lost.
Elias, still homeless, found solace in her success. He saved scraps of newspaper articles featuring her, clipping them carefully and tucking them into his worn-out backpack. He memorized every song, every lyric, as if it would bring him closer to her.
Though they were worlds apart, Elias remained her biggest fan.
(End of Part 1)
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