"Good morning, brother," Egemed greeted Rada when he saw him approaching the kitchen.
He bent low as he spoke, continuing to sweep the room with steady strokes of his broom. Near the window, their mother sat in silence, cutting vegetables, the knife rising and falling with patient precision.
Rada said nothing. He went straight to the stove and began making tea for himself.
"When are we going to—" Rada began, but the question fell apart before it could be finished.
"After lunch," Egemed replied.
"Where are you going?" their mother asked without looking up.
"To the building, Mother," Egemed said.
"Oh—I see," she smiled faintly. "We visited it the day you went to stay with your brother in the city. Soon we'll throw a party."
"Yes, we will, Mother." Egemed smiled softly.
"But you never told us," she added, pausing her hands, "what purpose you're building it for?"
"So you didn't even tell Mother?" Rada snapped.
Egemed froze. Then he turned toward his brother with an easy smile. "It's a secret."
He gathered the dirt into the dustpan and left the room.
As soon as Egemed stepped outside to throw away the trash, Rada grabbed a glass of water and hurried to sit close to his mother.
"Mother," he whispered, "is that true? He didn't tell you?"
"Yes," she chuckled. "Is there a problem?"
"No—no, Mother. But you know our Egemed," he said with forced amusement. "What if he messes up, like in his studies?"
"I'm not sure either, Rada. But he's using his own money to build it, with his friend."
"Is it big?" he asked.
She nodded. "Oh yes. He told me yesterday about money being transferred, with his friend's name."
"What money?" she raised her brows.
"I'm not sure, Mother. I don't know much about Egemed."
She sighed, thoughtful. "It's been almost three years now," she said.
Then she told him of a morning long ago, when she and their father had been sitting in the living room. Egemed had walked in wearing his worker's clothes. They had been amazed—his face shining as he bent down to tie his own shoes. The smile he wore that day felt deliberate, as though he had been carrying it for years. His mother could see it clearly: it was the smile of someone who had finally begun to touch a long-held dream.
They had asked him about it then. And he had answered the same way.
"It's a secret".
"That long, Mother?" Rada murmured. "He never told me even once?"
A sudden realization dawned on him, heavy and sharp. It was his own fault. He had never spoken to Egemed, never asked, never listened.
"Mother," Rada said slowly, "don't you feel Egemed is… strange sometimes?"
"Why do you say that?" she asked, curious.
"No—he's the same," she said after a pause. Then she added quietly, "Though now that you mention it… once Egemed locked himself in his room for a whole week. Your father and I didn't see his face even once."
Rada's eyes widened. The glass stopped halfway to his mouth.
"Mother, you never… told me," he stammered, then drank quickly. There's no use worrying now, he thought. I avoided them first.
"You should ask him yourself," she said, nodding with a gentle smile.
"But, Mother, he doesn't seem to open up—"
Egemed returned, broom and dustpan in hand.
"Mother, the sink in the bathroom is broken. I'll fix it."
Silence settled between them. Rada felt suddenly uneasy.
"I know you will," she said, smiling at Egemed.
Egemed noticed Rada's tension but pretended not to. He nodded at him. "You look suspicious."
"Why would I?" Rada laughed nervously. "You're the suspicious one here."
"Then come help me fix the sink," Egemed chuckled.
"Okay." Rada stood and followed him.
"You should ask him yourself," their mother reminded him again.
"Mother, be quiet," Rada rolled his eyes, signaling for her not to let Egemed hear.
In the bathroom, as they worked on the sink, Rada drifted into his thoughts, staring at Egemed. He idly played with a pipe while Egemed asked for a screw.
"What did you want to ask earlier?" Egemed asked softly.
"Nothing."
"But Mother—"
"It's about Heryl." Rada handed him the screw and walked out.
He felt awkward asking directly. Though Egemed was always calm, Rada felt guilty for worrying now—after years of ignoring him, after years of turning away when Egemed had tried to reach out.
He remembered the many missed calls when he first moved to the city. He never called back, never even read the messages.
Every Monday, Egemed sent the same words:
Have a great day, Brother. I hope you are well. I'll be waiting for you to call me back when you have time. Take care.
When Rada was sick, Egemed always offered to come stay with him. Rada never let him.
Years passed. The calls stopped. The messages remained.
I'm waiting for your call. I want to talk with you.
Rada remembered deleting them every time, as if they meant nothing.
"Argh—he left?" Egemed muttered, jaw dropping.
A moment later, as Egemed focused on fixing the sink, Rada returned.
"You're a great plumber now," Rada teased, chewing on a sandwich.
Egemed turned and laughed. "So you're hungry?"
"Yeah. I only drank a glass of water. I'll help once I finish eating."
Egemed nodded, nearly done.
"Want a bite?" Rada offered. "It'll be faster."
"As if my mouth could make your tummy full," Egemed chuckled, wrapping things up.
"You're done already?" Rada chewed frantically.
"Yes. Don't rush—you'll choke."
"So what was the point of asking me to help?" Rada frowned.
"You were staring at me like you saw a princess while I was fixing it," Egemed laughed softly.
As he stepped out of the bathroom, he leaned in and whispered teasingly, "Perhaps it was to show you how skilled I am."
His laughter echoed through the house.
The day slipped quietly toward afternoon. Egemed and Rada stepped out through the front door, their mother following them as far as the yard. Just as they reached the gate, Heryl returned from college, his bag slung over one shoulder, a bright smile already on his face.
"Where are you two planning to go?" he called out, walking toward them.
"Let's take him with us—even if he doesn't want to," Egemed whispered to Rada, knowing well how often Heryl refused whenever anyone invited him out.
"Not two," Rada replied.
Before Heryl could react, both brothers grabbed him by the shoulders from either side. He struggled, but they dragged him along anyway, forcing him to walk backward.
"Mother!" Heryl shouted, his lips turning downward in protest as he looked at her.
Their mother stood on the veranda, watching with a gentle smile.
"Just go and enjoy," she said, waving them off.
Rada and Egemed smirked at Heryl.
"Oh, our little brother doesn't want to spend time with us," Rada teased.
"Okay—okay," Heryl gave up. "I'll go with you."
"Not now," Egemed said.
"We're already too far to turn back." Heryl pleaded.
Still, they didn't let him go until they were far enough that home was no longer an easy escape. Then they released him. The three walked side by side, their voices weaving together, until the building finally came into view.
"What the—" Rada gasped.
He stopped short, stunned by the size of it. He had imagined something modest—ordinary, like their father's company building.
"This is huge," he said. "And it was built in just three years?"
"Yes," Heryl replied. "That's what happens when two best friends work together." He glanced at Egemed. "He must love you a lot to help this much."
Rada could hardly believe what stood before him. The building was even larger than their family's company.
Inside, the rooms stretched out in careful symmetry—similar in size, similar in design.
"Is this a hospital, Egemed?" Rada asked.
Egemed only smiled.
"It's a secret again, right?" Heryl said, blinking at him for confirmation.
As they climbed the stairs toward the top floor, their voices echoed through the building—questions, laughter, wild guesses. Three brothers circling one another's futures, trying to uncover Egemed's intentions. Egemed followed behind them, laughing at every guess.
"No." "No." "Nay."
"What should he name this place?" Heryl asked Rada.
"Maybe after himself—like Father," Rada chuckled.
"Nay, nay," Heryl objected. "It must be EGEMED THE GREAT."
"If not that, then EGEMED THE KING," Rada snapped.
"Neither," Egemed said.
"We're tired of guessing," Heryl sighed, looking at Rada. "That's it. It's A SECRET."
They turned back toward Egemed, chanting "A secret, a secret," laughing uncontrollably until they reached the top.
"Brother Egemed," Heryl said suddenly, his voice serious.
Rada and Egemed turned to him, equally solemn—only to hear him add;
"If anyone disobeys you, you can just throw them out from here."
They burst into laughter.
As they prepared to leave, workers resting near the building waved and called out Egemed's name, happy to see him. One of them ran over and handed Egemed three large sweet potatoes, roasted over fire.
"It's good to see you, Egemed," the worker said, then glanced at Rada.
"He's my older brother," Egemed said with a smile.
"It's beautiful seeing you all together," the worker said. "I've never seen you before." He smiled at Rada and extended his hand.
Rada froze. The man's hand was blackened with ash and dirt.
Before the moment could turn awkward, Heryl stepped forward and shook the worker's hand with a wide grin.
"The sweet potatoes look delicious," he said.
The worker smiled, relieved.
"Nice to meet you, sir," he said, bowing to Rada.
Rada bowed back, smiling, and they took their leave.
On the way home, Heryl took one of the sweet potatoes, drawing a smile from Egemed at his eagerness.
"Take this one, Brother," Heryl said, handing one to Rada.
"This one's smaller—it's for you," he smirked at Egemed.
"I'm starving," Heryl said, already peeling his potato. He had been dragged along straight from college, after all.
Just as he was about to take a bite, Rada's voice stopped him cold.
"Heryl."
He froze.
"Why did you do that?" Rada asked, his voice firm.
"But—Brother Egemed always teaches me to be kind to everyone," Heryl said, glancing at Egemed.
"You wouldn't shake his hand, right?" Hesitated, His head lowered. "I'm sorry, Brother. If I were in his place, I'd feel embarrassed. So I shook his hand for you."
Rada said nothing. He peeled his sweet potato and ate.
Egemed stepped closer and whispered gently, "We're sorry, Brother, if we offended you."
Rada's heart skipped. He paused mid-bite, then smiled at Egemed.
Heryl walked ahead uncertainly, thinking he had disappointed his Elder brother. But Rada suddenly grabbed his backpack and pulled him close, making him walk beside him.
"We'll let you eat a lot today," Rada said, rubbing Heryl's shoulder. "You must be starving, coming straight from college with us."
Egemed nodded. "Yeah. Let's go."
And so the three of them spent the rest of the day together—roaming the town until evening, sharing dinner at a small food stall, letting Heryl eat until he was full and satisfied.
"T'was the happiest time I'd spent with my two brothers in a long while," Egemed thought, "Despite every silly fight and quiet resentment, siblings are the only blood who never hold grudges for long."