“She still might come around.” “I don’t think so.” I fiddle with the medallion, looking down at it instead of into my brother’s eyes. “I had a chance, and I blew it.” “She’s scared. That might not last forever.” “I love her.” “I know,” he says softly. “I thought . . . she loved me too. I thought we were forever.” I laugh. It’s a lonely, hollow sound. “I thought she’d be by my side for this.”
