Tell him about the hospital visits that never happened, the police reports that were never filed, the nights I stood guard outside his door.

"It wasn't like that⁠⁠—"

"It wasn't like what? Like I didn't deserve to know the truth about what goes on in my own fucking family? Do you know what that was like for me? Hearing it in front of an entire audience at a fucking party?"

The truth would break you, little brother.

"Jake—"

"No, Nate. You don't get to talk your way out of this. Not this time." His voice trembles, anger spilling into something rawer, deeper. "You've been screwing up for years, and the rest of us are the ones paying the price. Mom's breaking her back trying to keep you afloat, and Dad's been bailing your ass out of shit left right and center."

Every muscle in my body goes rigid. The mention of our father sends bile rising in my throat.

Bailing me out? Is that what he told you?

What about the night he put me through the mirror in the bathroom?

About the time he "helped" me down the stairs?

Of all the things he's said, the way he defends our father like he's some kind of hero burns me the most. My hands tremble with the effort of holding back fifteen years of truth.

I take a shaky breath, trying to push back the rage rising in my chest. "Jake, listen to me. Whatever Dad's feeding you, it's not the truth. He's manipulating you. That's what he does. He makes you think you need him, but you don't. You don't."

Just like he did with Mom.

Just like he did with me.

Until we were nothing but shells of ourselves.

Jake's laugh is hollow, his shoulders stiffening like armor.

"You think I don't know that? You think I don't see what he's doing? But here's the thing, Nate, at least he's paying attention to me now. At least I'm not invisible anymore."

No, no, no. This is exactly what I tried to prevent.

"That's not attention, Jake. That's fucking control," I snap, my voice sharp enough to cut. "This is what he does. He uses you, manipulates you, and slowly takes away everything you love until you're under his thumb. If you paid attention, you might start to see things a lot clearer. But you don't. You just blame the world for everything that happens to you."

Jake's eyes flash with something dangerous, his voice a low growl. "Fuck you, Nate. Seriously, fuck you."

"You need to demonize me to fit your narrative, fine." I take a step forward, chest heaving. "You want to make me the villain in your story so you feel better? To justify running off and saying fuck you to me, to Mom? Okay. But don't you ever say I didn't care about you. My entire fucking life, all I've ever done is care about you. About Mom."