“It’s okay, Shan,” he whispered, comforting me. “I’m sorry,” I choked out, tightening my hold on his neck. Tears spilled over my cheeks. “I’m so sorry, Joe.” “It’s not your fault, Shan.” “But I made him mad—” “Not your fault,” my brother repeated, tone stern. “I don’t want to be here anymore, Joe.” “Me neither.” “I’m sick of feeling scared all the time.”
