You were ten. I was eighteen. I clearly couldn’t even take care of myself, let alone my kid brother, as proven by the fact that I got fucking knocke... up like, two years later.”He put his hand on his hip in an exaggerated effeminate pose. “‘And I could have let you just live on the streets when you got kicked out, Jimmy, but out of the goodness of my heart I took you in and for the past five years I’ve done nothing but love you and support you.’”His high-pitched mocking of my voice hurt me more. She always called after a flight.“Hey, honey!” She had to shout to be heard over the cacophony around her. Brian jumped when she did it, not even realizing she had taken out her phone. She smiled, both in apology and humor, as her husband responded.“Survived again, I see,” she thought he said. Her phone was turned up all the way, and yet his voice was too tinny to catch every word. So she surmised the missing gaps. “How’s Brian? Is he still sane?”The humor was forced, but at least he was. More

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