“Don’t forget the truth,” I whisper through the wall. “We’re not your family.”

Sometimes Logan talks back, but, mostly, it’s just me, reminding him he has another mother that doesn’t lock him in at night and bribe him with sugar.

When I do hear something, it’s not Logan; it’s Mum, and she’s shouting, “What have you done?”

There’s a thud on the wall, then scraping, and Dad’s muffled voice. “What’s wrong?”

The lock slides back on my door and Mum looks furious. “Come here,” she says, pulling me into Will’s room and pointing at Logan. “Do you see what he’s done? Can you see what you made him do?”

I can because it’s everywhere. He’s written all over the wall that we talk through, and it says HELP ME a million times.

“Cover it up,” Mum says.

“But we don’t have any paint.”

“I don’t care. I want it gone tonight.”

Logan is staring at the carpet, and I’m proud of him, because he won’t let her win.

If I look for too long, I get scared, because it feels like the wall is shouting at me. It feels like all those tiny words make one huge one.

When I’m back in my room, I can hear Dad papering over the damage. But I know it’s there forever, now, just like Logan.

IIII IIII IIII IIII IIII III

“Happy birthday!” Mum says, and Logan looks confused because he doesn’t think that’s right. He can’t know for sure because Mum hid the calendars and won’t let him watch TV, and the only way to guess the month is by looking out of the window.

Logan might not know what day it is, but I do. It’s unforgettable because it’s my brother’s birthday…if you still call it that when they’re gone.

Mum has decorated the living room with banners saying 5 TODAY!, and she made a cake and there are presents all over the rug. I feel sick, but we have to smile like this is totally normal because Mum’s anger is worse on special days.

This is the most special, even if it’s a lie.

Logan won’t open the presents until Mum sits with him and puts one in his lap.

“They’re all for you, Will,” she says, and he doesn’t say that’s not his name because he knows what happens. He rips the paper, then looks at me, and I try to be happy because I have no choice. Dad’s smile disappears before it gets to his eyes, and they tell the truth that we’re all too scared to say.