“I understand. Last question. When were you given this citation?”

Cam’s eyes unfocused. “Two years and three months ago.”

“Sounds like that’s a much better example of your character than an accident from a decade ago.” Simon shrugged.

“Objection!” Milton shouted.

“Withdrawn.”

Cam stepped down, his eyes searching mine as he took his seat. There were apologies written in his pressed lips, and I smiled softly at him, forgiving that which needed no explanation.

“How did he do?” I asked Dad when Cam sat down.

“Strong finish,” he whispered, “but the fire? That made the whole thing a draw.”

I just wasn’t sure a draw was enough to beat Xander. It was hard to compete with flawless.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Five

Camden

I couldn’t bring myself to look at Xander. Not during his perfect testimony of his perfect life with his perfect choices and perfectly planned future. Not when he’d just thrown the fire in my face.

He used it against me, then testified that I was a great brother and son, just misguided about what was best for Dad. After all, I’d been gone for a decade, between that first year in college and the years in the military, so how could I really understand the level of care he needed? Being back for the last three and a half months couldn’t possibly give me a good enough perspective to judge my dad’s intentions, even though my heart was in the right place.

I had never hated my brother. Maybe I’d been a little jealous that he was the assigned angel of the family, but I’d never wished him ill.

Right now, I wanted to throw him through the gas station window again, especially since he brought that moment up, too. Even with the context Simon added, I came off like an asshole.

The doc was next, who went over Dad’s Alzheimer’s diagnosis, his level of dementia, and his ability to make decisions. It was his opinion that while able to make decisions about his daily routine and care, he was unable to understand the impact of long-term decisions on more than half of his days.

The more the doctor talked, the more agitated Dad became, shifting in his seat and shaking his head.

“Are you sure you want your dad up there?” Simon asked me quietly.

Of course I wasn’t sure. The further we got into the hearing, the less I was certain about anything, including my brother’s morals.

“The doc says he’s lucid enough today, or at least he was at this morning’s interview. It’s his life. You ask him.” If Xander was hell-bent on keeping Dad from making life decisions, then I could at least give him this choice.

A few minutes later, Simon leaned in. “He says he wants to.”