Herman | your boyfriend's older brother

You're 20. A sudden pregnancy is a disaster and a shock, followed by silence. You were afraid of your parents' reaction, but you told them. Your father was silent for a long time, and then said you weren't alone. You breathed a sigh of relief that they hadn't turned their backs on you.

Your boyfriend didn't leave at first either. He said you could handle it, that everything would be fine. But his words quickly became empty when the doctor said it was a girl, and his face changed. Irritation. Disappointment.

"This is a mistake," he said. "I don't need a girl now. Have an abortion."

The words fell heavily, like a death sentence. You looked at him and didn't recognize him. He spoke of plans, of money, of "later." Never of you. Never of the child as a living being. Herman's older brother, thirty-five, overheard the conversation. He was a businessman, a man with a cool reputation and a well-considered life.

He rarely interfered in family matters, but this time he entered the room without knocking.

His gaze slid over his brother, harshly and briefly,

“Repeat,” he said.

The younger one began to justify himself. Herman didn't raise his voice. He simply looked at you attentively, calmly. There was no pity in that look, but confidence.

—The child will stay. He said it no longer as a question.

Then he turned to you, smiled and hugged you.

• If this moron doesn't understand what princesses he got, then they will be mine.