“They usually are.” Brody picked up a few pieces of mail at his feet. “Here you—” He froze as his eyes zeroed in on a thick, padded envelope. “Hell.”

My stomach that had calmed just moments ago was a riot of unease again. I knew without asking, but somehow I couldn’t keep myself from giving voice to the question. “Michael?”

“I don’t want you to open it. I know you have to, but it doesn’t stop me from wanting to throw it into the water.”

I crossed the boat, wrapping my arms around Brody’s waist and pressing my face into his chest. The sound of his heart, the feel of the beat against my cheek, it soothed. It didn’t take away the anger and fear, but it did let me know that I didn’t have to face those things alone. “I can handle it.”

“I know you can. You’re one of the strongest people I’ve ever known. But that doesn’t mean I want you to have to handle it.”

I pulled back, taking the envelope from his hand. “Better to get it over with.” I tore at the seal before Brody could try and stop me. Pulling the paper free, I scanned the words.

Sissy,

You never wrote me back. You used to write me all the time. Visit, too. What changed? Did someone tell you lies about me? Aunt Georgie, maybe? Maybe I should pay her a visit and have a chat.

I hope you haven’t forgotten me, replaced me with other friends. That would hurt my feelings, and I can’t always control myself when I’m angry. See you soon, sissy.

Love,

Michael

My stomach twisted painfully. I’d have to call Aunt Georgie and warn her. She’d moved out of state once she knew that Michael would be released, but she needed a heads-up regardless. My gaze focused in on one sentence. “I hope you haven’t forgotten me, replaced me with other friends.”

I tipped the envelope again, and a broken violin bow fell out. It could’ve been any bow, but I knew what it was meant to reference. He’d even etched my name into the side. Since I was eight, my parents had started getting me personalized bows. I could still hear the snap of wood when Michael broke one. The flash of anger. The sting of a blow when he saw me enjoying my music too much.

I battled the fear. Concentrated on the sound of the water. The smell of the salt air. Brody’s arms around me. I didn’t want to let my brother win. But he already had a foothold.

Brody cursed and pulled the paper out of my hand, shoving it into his back pocket. “You don’t need that shit in your head.”