The Borrowed Breath
I remember the day Leo gave me my life. I remember the sterile white of the hospital room, the rhythmic beep of the monitors, and the look of absolute, terrifying peace on my brother's face. I had been a dying man, a shell of a person whose body had decided to quit. Leo, who had always been the quiet one, the one who moved through the world as if he were apologizing for occupying space, had...
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