After Dad Left, My Little Brother Became the Man of the House—Until One Day He Found Something Unexpected in the Oven

He was just ten years old. The morning after Dad walked out—no goodbye, no note, just silence and a half-packed closet—my little brother woke up early, tied his shoes the wrong way, and tried to make scrambled eggs. He burned them. We ate them anyway. That’s how it all began. Suddenly, he was our rock….