When I reach the gates, hugging myself with how cold it is, I huff out a foggy breath. “Really, Chris? Why are you here?” My stepbrother’s eyes are bloodshot, as if he’s had far too many drinks before coming here. “You weren’t answering me.” His words are slurred, and saliva slips from the corner of his mouth. “Are you high?” “Will it make you come home with me if I say yes?” he asks, fingers curling on the rods of the metal gate I refuse to unlock with the code.
