“What did he say?”
Mark’s jaw tightened. “He said he was coming over… and that he was going to make you ‘pay for what you did.’”
My mind went blank. “What I did?”
“I asked him,” Mark continued. “He kept going on about money… said you ruined him.”
Then it hit me.
Two weeks ago, Ethan had begged me for twenty thousand dollars. He promised it would fix everything. But we had helped him before—more than once—and it always disappeared into drinking or gambling. For the first time, I said no.
He lost it. Yelled things I’d never heard from him before. Accused me of abandoning him. Said I thought I was better than him.
But I never imagined he’d show up like this.
“Mark… he wouldn’t hurt us,” I whispered.
Mark slowly shook his head. “He didn’t sound like himself.”
A loud crash shattered the silence.
Emma flinched in my arms.
Through the window, I saw Ethan in the living room, knocking things over. Picture frames hit the floor and broke. He staggered, shouting—words I couldn’t hear, but the anger was clear.
My chest ached.
That was my little brother. The kid who used to ride bikes with me, who cried when our dog died.
But the man inside now felt like a stranger.
Then he disappeared down the hallway.