The snow that covered what was once a bright green grass was squashed by the weight of the child's footsteps, advancing with certain difficulty among the dark and leafless trees. The wind hit him in the face like small blades and made him squint his eyes so as not to lose sight of what he was looking for. From his left, a tall, middle-aged man took the red ball that had hit his shoes and approached the boy.

“Here you go.” The man smiled at him and the little boy thanked him quietly before turning around and running back to where he came from, as fast as the padded and tight coat allowed him. With the ball in his hands, he could feel the cold of the snow as it melted through the fabric of his gloves, freezing his fingertips.

“Theo!” He heard the rustling of the snow getting closer to him, and his brother's agitated breathing. “Don't run away like that," his voice broke.

He had stopped in front of him, and Theo watched stunned as his brother, who was frowning, clenched his jaw and breathed hard through his nose. His eyes gleamed and his expression fluctuated between anger and despair.

“But," he said, softening his tone of voice upon seeing that Ethan's face remained the same, "you were the one who threw the ball at me.”

“It was a damn joke!” he burst, as though he had been holding it for a while. “What are you, a dog? Throwing yourself after the ball? Why are you so stupid?!”

Theo's lips began slowly and predictably to tremble, and his face wrinkled in a tearful expression. Ethan calmed down, approached his little brother, who was whimpering, and bent his knees to match his height.

“Hey, hey,” he sighed, holding the ball that Theo was holding tightly, and lowered his head. “I'm sorry. Stop crying. I went too far.”

Theo closed his mouth in a poor attempt to appease his sobs, and with his shoulders still shaking, he proceeded to wipe his tears with the back of his hand. Ethan held the ball under his arm and finished wiping his brother's cheeks, squeezing them slightly and turning them red.

“Sorry," Theo mumbled.

Ethan nodded and stood up, placing his hand on his brother's head.

“That's disgusting," he laughed as he saw the little boy sniffing. “Let's ask grandma for a tissue,” he said and extended his free hand, tilting his head a bit. “Also, let's not tell her about this, okay?”

“Okay," Theo said holding his hand, his eyes regaining the brightness. “Tan,” he inquired and stopped jumping to start kicking the snow that accumulated at his feet as he walked. “I just felt something warm in my chest.”

Ethan frowned and waited for him to continue talking. Since he didn't, he stopped the walk, forcing Theo to do the same.

"Just now? What do you mean?" he said, watching Theo draw shapes with his foot in the snow. "Do you feel any pain?”

"No," he replied, wiping away what he had done to restart drawing again. "It was only a moment. When the man handed me the ball.”

"Which man?" Theo shrugged his shoulders and Ethan registered his surroundings with a cold sweat on the back of his neck. He squatted in front of his little brother and slightly unzipped the warm jacket Theo was wearing to verify that the necklace was still there.

Several meters away, an old lady with short, dark hair approached them briskly. First, she looked at the eldest of the brothers with interrogating eyes, without saying anything, and then looked down at Theo, who, although had recovered almost completely, still had traces of tears on his blushed face, as well as a runny nose.

"What happened?" she exclaimed and turned to Ethan again. "Where did you go? You scared me to death when I came back and I didn't find you!" She pulled a cloth handkerchief out of one of the pockets of her long brown jacket and squeezed Theo's nose to clear it.

"He tripped when he was looking for the ball," said Ethan, who fixed his gaze on the trees surrounding the park.

Their grandmother examined Theo and sighed shaking her head.

"Are you hurt?" she said as she straightened up and passed one of the grocery bags to Ethan and held Theo's hand. "Next time, just make him play on the swings. We don't want him getting sick again.”