She wore a short black dress with sequins, which was too tight, highlighting her well-proportioned figure, paired with dark purple high-heeled sandals and without stockings. She looked tired and walked a little unsteadily; her hair was also messy, making it unclear what hairstyle she had done last night.
I saw a small bruise on the right side of her knee, and I thought it was probably because she rushed back too quickly and bumped into something. But when she saw me looking at her, she instinctively pulled her skirt.
"Where did you go?" My brother didn't pay attention so much, and he rushed up and grabbed her, questioning her with anger and a hint of crying in his tone.
She shook off my brother's hand, gave him a cold look, walked straight to the bed, took off her high heels, and fell asleep without paying any attention to any of us.
My brother wanted to go up and pull her in anger again, but my parents stopped him.
It was good for her to be back. So, I tactfully retreated with my parents.
Even if he was my brother, he still had his own life. As family members, we could only offer help and love when he needed it, and we couldn’t get involved too much.