I didn’t reply.
I didn’t cry.
I just… stared at the screen until it went dark.
—
The next morning, my brother showed up.
Grease still on his hands.
Eyes red.
Breathing hard.
—
“I came as fast as I could.”
—
He dropped an envelope on my bed.
It looked… too light.
—
“I sold my tools,” he said.
“I could only get $800.”
—
Eight hundred dollars.
His entire life… reduced to that.
—
“You need it more than I do.”
He smiled.
