With a pang, I thought of the last words she had written to me when I tried to email her on my new account. I can’t watch you throw your life away. Not after all of my hard work.

And how could I answer her? That my life was my own to live? Obviously, that wasn’t true. I was reminded of my ten-year sentence every time I looked down at my ring finger.

I also couldn’t tell her the truth. That the only reason I’d deterred from the medical career path she laid out for me was because I was trying to keep her, Dad, and Byron safe from the enemy she didn’t know dad had made. That would scare her more than it would vindicate me.

So I accepted that she would never acknowledge the birthday gifts she received in the mail from me or even say “thank you” for the flowers I sent on Mother’s Day.

Dad did, though. He seemed to have taken my new career path in stride. He always acknowledged the birthday gift cards and the Father’s Day messages I sent him with short emails. Usually, a week or two after he received them. But still, it was always nice to get a “Thanks for the gift card, sweet pea” and a “Praying and hoping everything’s okay with you.”

I never answered those texts truthfully. Never told him that things weren’t okay with me.

That they hadn’t been okay since that morning when his hand bit into the upper flesh of my arm as he hissed at me that I couldn’t run after Victor.

At least Byron was still talking to me fairly regularly. After I told him about my experimental animation project, he teased me about becoming a hippie and insisted that I should make a cop show animation.

“There are enough cop dramas on TV,” I answered him. Plus, from what I’d gleaned from Byron’s life, being a cop wasn’t that interesting when you took out all the non-existent technology and abuses of power that were often glorified on TV.

Unlike my father, Byron had no interest in undercover work. He liked riding a desk between appearances as his department’s public-facing hard of hearing spokesperson. He also served as a statewide emergency ASL translator. And he’d been named to the New Jersey Police Officer LGBTQ+ Liaison Committee.

My little brother was all grown up now and absolutely living his truth. The only thing that would make me prouder of him is if he calmed down that constantly revolving door of men and women he called a love life.

Actually, if I were going to do a cop animation, it would probably be a settling-down romance featuring a charming lead like Byron.