Gabriel looked over. His brother was holding out a bottle of Corona.

Shock almost knocked him out of the chair. They never had alcohol of any kind in the house. When Michael had turned twenty-one, they’d all spent about thirty seconds entertaining thoughts of wild parties supplied by their older brother.

Then they’d remembered it was Michael, a guy who said if he ever caught them drinking, he’d call the cops himself. Really, he’d driven the point home so thoroughly that by the time he and Nick started going to parties, they rarely touched the stuff.

Gabriel took the bottle from his hand. “Who are you, and what have you done with my brother?”

Michael tilted the bottle back and took a long draw. “I thought you could use one. I sure can.”

Gabriel took a sip, but tentatively, like Michael was going to slap it out of his hand and say, Just kidding. “Where did this even come from?”

“Liquor store.”

Well, that was typical Michael. “No, jackass, I meant—”

“I know what you meant.” Michael paused to take another drink. “There’s a mini-fridge in the back corner of the garage, under the old tool bench.” His voice was careful, as if he wasn’t sure he wanted to share this secret.

Gabriel didn’t look at him, hiding his own surprise. “You hid a fridge?”

“I didn’t. Dad did.” Another drink. “I found it after he died.”

They both fell silent for a while, Michael probably reliving it, Gabriel imagining it, his brother at eighteen, finding their father’s stash of beer. Gabriel wondered if Dad had only been hiding it from his sons, or if he’d kept it a secret from their mother, too.

Not like it mattered.

“Please tell me this beer isn’t five years old,” he said.

“It’s not.” Michael smiled.

And that, too, was almost enough to knock Gabriel out of the chair.

He stared out into the darkness for a moment, and then took another sip. “You’re not mad?”

Michael didn’t say anything, just took another drink.

Gabriel felt his shoulders tighten. The cold of the bottle bit at his fingertips.

“You remember that summer Chris got mono?” said Michael.

The question came out of left field. But Gabriel did remember. Right after their parents died, Chris had gotten really sick. A pediatrician had diagnosed him with mononucleosis and given him antibiotics, but his “illness” had probably been more due to the fact that none of them were sleeping, and it was the driest summer Maryland had seen in years. Chris suffered without water.

“You and Nick got into it with Seth and Tyler that week,” said Michael. “At the mall, of all places. You remember that, too?”

“Yeah.” Gabriel remembered the security guards pulling them apart.

“The custody stuff still wasn’t straight,” said Michael. “Chris was sick, and I didn’t know how insurance worked, if we even had it, what with Mom and Dad . . . and then you two got in all that trouble at the mall. The social worker started saying it was too much for me, and she was going to recommend foster care—”