I Jump for My Brothers

My parents' funeral had just concluded, and the white candles at the altar still flickered. Wax dripped onto the bluestone slab, like tears frozen in place. My older brother, Matthew Lincoln, drew an unlimited black card from my wallet, pinching its corner between his fingers, his tone as detached as if he were commenting on the weather. "Shirley, our parents are gone. You must learn to stand on your own. We'll hold onto this bank card for you, for now." I clenched the faded corner of my shirt, my fingertips whitening. Still, I nodded: "Alright, I'll listen to you, big brother." At that moment, I gave it little thought, simply trusting that my brother was looking out for me. After all, they were the family I had been searching for ten years. Before long, all the servants at home were dismissed. Second Brother, Calvin Lincoln, told me with red-rimmed eyes that the Lincoln Group had collapsed and owed over a hundred million in debt. Third Brother, Yale Lincoln, added that he, along with the eldest and second brothers, had all been diagnosed with a hereditary family disease. They had to rely on imported medicine to survive, and a single injection cost tens of thousands. I stood in the empty living room, staring at their pale faces. My heart felt as if it were filled with lead, sinking into a deep unease. At that time, I had just received the notice to join the National Rhythmic Gymnastics Team's training camp. The coach patted my shoulder and said, Shirley, you are the most promising candidate to win an Olympic gold medal. But no matter how bright the gold medal shines, it cannot compare to the lives of my brothers. I locked the notice at the bottom of the drawer and threw the key into the trash bin downstairs. "Brother, don't worry." "I will earn money to pay for your medical treatment." Matthew Lincoln gently touched my head, his eyes filled with a complex emotion. "You have grown up; you are so understanding." At that moment, I still believed this was my brother's way of acknowledging me. My heart felt sweet, as if I had tasted sugar. I spent three days at the job market, but no one wanted to hire me. The employers looked at my ID card, frowned, and said I was too young and inexperienced. Until I saw the recruitment notice for the Search and Rescue Team by the river. It read, "Urgently need hands, good pay," with no experience required. Clutching the notice, I ran over, and Captain Jason Carter sized me up from head to toe. His brow furrowed deeply: "Young girl, this work isn't for you. You'll be in the river every day, even pulling out dead bodies. It's very hard." I bit my lip, holding back my tears. "Mr. Carter, I can do it. I'm strong and I know how to swim. Please give me a chance; I need the money." Jason Carter remained silent for a long moment, then finally sighed. "Alright, come with me. Dress warmly tomorrow; the river water is cold." On my first day at work, I encountered a drowning case. We had to retrieve the body of an elderly man; the river flowed swiftly, and the body had drifted far. I followed Jason Carter underwater; the river water was cold and murky. When I touched the old man's cold hand, I trembled all over with fear. After coming ashore, I crouched by the riverbank and vomited for a long time. Jason Carter handed me a bottle of hot water: "The first time is always like this. If you can't bear it, just say so." I shook my head and swallowed the hot water. My stomach still churned violently, but whenever I thought of my brothers' medical expenses, I clenched my teeth and endured. "Mr. Carter, I'm fine. I'll come to work again tomorrow."