And then Ryke says, “If I go, you think he’ll lay off you?” “Is that even a question?” Ryke nods. “All right. Let’s go.” “Are you sure?” He would do that? He’d go stomach a whole hour or two with our father just so the verbal assaults are redirected his way? “Yeah. I’m sure.” I don’t know what I’m feeling. My lungs seem to lift from my chest, and I know what word I want to say. I know what word I can’t. Thank you. In this moment, I truly feel like I have a brother. One that’s probably too good for me.
aw
