"What have you done? You did this! You killed your brother." My dad yanked on my wrist. His safe was open. My brother was on the ground. Face down. Blood pooled around him; a dark, dark red. Thicker than when Mom spilled her wine. So much blood. I must have screamed. I tried to run out of the room, but Dad pulled on my arm, forcing me to see. "You did this!" Dad grabbed my right wrist and shoved a gun into my hand, pressing my fingers against it. Or did he take it out of my hand? I can't remember. But nevermind all that. This is a love story...
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