“They didn’t tell me who my visitor was.” He changes the subject. “I hoped it was you.”

Annalisa shifts uncomfortably in her seat, as if the thought of talking about her feelings makes her sick.

“You are my brother,” she says finally.

Luke hesitates, treading carefully. “Yes. But I thought you wanted nothing to do with me?”

Annalisa’s hand clenches into a fist, and I can just imagine the feeling of her long, black nails digging into her palm.

“I may have been . . . overly mean.” She pauses, considering her words. “But I’m not apologizing. You fucked up when you walked away when mom died. You fucked up when you chose drugs over me. And you definitely fucked up by landing yourself here.”

Luke opens his mouth to say something but she beats him to it. “But you were trying. That day at the Tracks was the first time I saw you sober in a long time. You wanted to make it right between us.”

She looks away from him, the muscles in her jaw working as she clenches it. I know that face; she’s trying to stop herself from crying.

“And I think I do too,” she admits quietly.

Luke’s eyes light up at the admission, hopefulness settling over his expression as he takes in her words.

“Yes,” he says, almost too quickly. “I’ll do anything, Lise. I swear, I’ll do whatever I can to make it up to you, even from in here. I’m sorry I’m such a fuckup. I’m sorry I’m in here instead of out there, doing what I can to be there for you. And I’m especially sorry that I let you down, again.” He boldly reaches across the table and grabs Annalisa’s clenched hand. “Even if I’m in here for life, I’ll never stop trying to be the brother you deserve.”

I bite my lip. Don’t you dare cry. Don’t you dare cry! This is not your moment to ruin.

I keep chanting this statement in my head, but a lone tear escapes anyway. I discreetly swipe at it, trying not to draw any attention to myself.

Annalisa yanks her hand out of his grasp and bangs it on the table. “You are not going to prison for life. It’s bad enough you’re stuck in here while you wait for trial.”

A guard comes over at the commotion. “Hey, keep it down here.”

She nods to placate him and the guard goes back over to his position.

“Lise, I’m looking at twenty-five to life,” Luke warily reminds her.

“Not if you’re innocent,” she states.

“It’s not looking that way . . .” He deflates, the earlier hopefulness and confidence gone. “Besides, I don’t even remember what happened. There’s nothing I can do.”

“To hell with that!” Annalisa proclaims, earning her another warning from a guard.

She apologizes and returns her attention to her brother. “Of course you can’t do anything from in here, but we can. We’re going to put together what happened that night.”