**The Named Brother**
“Let go! Stop it! You’re hurting him!”—Sobbing uncontrollably, Sophie pounded her fists against the boy who’d snatched her kitten away. She hit with all her might, though it did no good. The boy only laughed, tightening his grip on the tiny, fragile body. Desperate, Sophie bit down on his arm—only to be flung aside a moment later. The metallic tang of blood filled her mouth, and something warm trickled down her chin. She wiped her face with her palm and, seeing it stained red, squeezed her eyes shut and screamed.
“Help!…”
Oddly enough, someone heard. A sharp yelp came from the boy, and Sophie opened her eyes. From where she’d fallen, she couldn’t see much, but she caught a glimpse of her tormentor’s grubby sneakers kicking up as he toppled onto the pavement.
“What’s wrong with you? Lost your mind?” the boy yelped, his voice no longer smug.
“I’ll show you lost!” A new voice, calm and lazy, cut through the air. “Clear off, or you’ll answer to me. Touch her again, and you’ll regret it. Got it?”
Sophie turned her head. Another boy? But this one had defended her. Still, what came next? She frantically searched the ground—where was—there! A small, furry bundle lay motionless on the pavement. On hands and knees, she scrambled over and touched it gently. Still breathing! Cradling the tiny creature, she tried to stand, but her legs wouldn’t obey. She had to get to Gran. Gran would know what to do.
“Hey, you alright? Blimey, you took a hit!” The older boy crouched beside her, angular and awkward, trying to catch her eye. “Let’s see—bit your lip or your tongue?”
“Don’t know…”
“Alright, we’ll sort it. Can you stand?”
Sophie shook her head. The shock hit her all at once, and fresh tears spilled over.
“Oi, none of that! He’s gone. Won’t bother you again—not if I have anything to say about it. What’ve you got there?”
A rough hand, nails bitten short, reached for the kitten, but Sophie flinched away, curling around it protectively.
“Easy—won’t touch it! Don’t cry.”
She tried to steady herself, but the tears wouldn’t stop.
She never should’ve come out without Gran today. She’d begged, insisting she was old enough—nearly ready for school. All the others played outside alone. Only she still had Gran trailing after her.
“Sophie, love, I need walking just as much as you do,” Gran would tease. “You play, I chat with the ladies. What’s wrong with that?”
“But everyone *knows* you’re watching me!”
“And?”
“I’m *big* now!”
“Course you are! You keep an eye on me, and I keep an eye on you.”
“I want to go alone!” Gran only chuckled. Just like her father, stubborn and independent. Only he’d been a boy. Sophie was a girl.
“Let’s ask your mum. She’ll decide, eh?”
“Ugh! She’ll *never* let me!”
“Ever asked?”
Sophie shook her head. Mum was strict—a surgeon at the hospital. No room for leniency there. Patients wouldn’t listen otherwise. And though Sophie wasn’t a patient, the same rules applied. Once Mum said *no*, begging was pointless. But Gran was right—she’d never actually asked.
To her surprise, Mum agreed.
“You *are* getting older,” she conceded. “But you’ll have to prove I can trust you. Only then will I consider you grown-up enough, understand?”
“How?”
“Simple. You stay in our courtyard. No wandering off. And you’ll stay where Gran can see you from the window. Deal?”
“Not even the swings next door?”
“Sophie, where are those swings?”
“The other courtyard…”
“And what did I just say? Yes or no?”
“No.”
“Right. So why ask?”
Sophie nodded, thrilled despite the restrictions.
Yet she broke her promise immediately.
First, Emily from flat thirty-five showed up. They jumped rope awhile, then Emily announced she was heading to the swings.
“I’m not allowed,” Sophie muttered, glancing up at their flat. No sign of Gran, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t watching.
“Suit yourself!” Emily hesitated. “Come on, just for a bit? We’ll be quick!”
Sophie shook her head. *No.* If Mum found out, she’d never be allowed out again.
Emily shrugged and dashed off. Sophie slumped onto the bench. Boring. No one else was around. Maybe *just* a quick run to the swings—no roads to cross. She checked the windows once more, then bolted after her friend.
Twenty minutes later, dizzy from swinging, they were on their way back when they spotted it—a tiny kitten, sprawled on the pavement near the first block of flats. No mother in sight. The girls searched the bushes, called for her, but she never came.
“He’s so little! Barely opened his eyes,” Emily murmured as Sophie cupped the mewling creature. “Can’t survive without mum.”
“How d’you know?”
“Used to have a cat. Mum told me all about kittens. We gave Whiskers to Nan—now we’ve got Sphinx.”
“*Who?*”
“His proper name’s unpronounceable. Like some pharaoh’s.”
“A *what?*”
“Ancient king. From Egypt. They *loved* cats. Sphinx looks just like those ones—bald. Know what?”
“What?”
“So ugly even *Mum* gets spooked—though she adores him.”
“Completely bald?”
“No—just very short fur. Wrinkly little thing.”
Sophie considered this, then held the kitten out. “You take him. You know how to help.”
Emily shook her head. “Can’t. Sphinx would bully him.”
“Then what do we—?”
Emily’s mum called from down the street, cutting her off.
“Gotta go! Tell me how he does!”
Left alone, Sophie clutched the kitten—so pitiful, so helpless. Right. To Gran’s. She’d know what to do.
But she never made it.
A sneering voice called from behind:
“Oi, shrimp! What’ve you got there?”
Then the kitten was torn from her hands. And everything went wrong.
“You alright? Easy now—you’ve had a shock.” The older boy still hadn’t left. Awkwardly, he tried to meet her eyes.
“Why?”
“Eh?”
“Why’d you help me?”
“Shouldn’t I have?” He smirked, offering a hand. “Up you get. Blimey, your mum’ll have a fit!”
“Mum won’t mind. Gran might.”
The boy stiffened.
“You live with your gran?”
“And Mum. Just no dad.”
“Where’s he?”
“Gone.” Her lips pressed tight. She wouldn’t cry. Not now. “He was a doctor. Army doctor…”
“I get it.”
A silence settled between them. Sophie adjusted the kitten.
“What about you? Who d’you live with?”
“Gran.”
“Parents?”
“Just Mum. Never had a dad.”
Sophie bit her lip. “Your mum’s job?”
His face darkened.
“Never mind! Don’t tell me.” She backtracked quickly. Didn’t want to upset him.
He nodded stiffly, gaze distant.
“Could you…” Sophie hesitated.
“What?”
“Walk me home? In case he comes back?”
“Told you—he won’t. But if you’re scared, fine.”
He plucked a broad leaf from the flowerbed, dabbing gently at her chin.
“Look at you—proper mess.”
“Rude!”
“Didn’t mean it! Just—your gran’ll panic. No hankie on me.”
“She’s brave. Like Dad.”
Sophie took his hand, clutched the kitten tighter, and they walked.
Gran waited by the door. At the sight of Sophie, she gasped.
“Good heavens! What happened?”
“Don’t be cross! Look—he’s still alive!” Sophie thrust the kitten forward. “He was crying, now he’s quiet. Gran, *please* help him!”
“Help *you* first! Where does it hurt?”
“Nowhere now.”
“Inside, then.” Gran’s sharp eyes flicked to the boy. “And *you* are?”
“He saved me, Gran! Fought proper!”
“Did he now? Brave lad. Your name?”
Sophie gaped.
“Don’t *know?!*” Gran huffed. “Young man?”
“Max.”
“Claudia Whitmore. Pleasure. Gran to this odd little creature.”
“Years later, standing together under the same old courtyard tree, the now-grown Max and Sophie smiled—knowing that the bond formed over a kitten and a childhood promise had carried them through every storm life sent their way.
