• It started when Colin was arrested. He was twenty-two at the time. He worked afternoons at a local pancake house and was always home when school let out. Colin was incredibly intelligent, more so than I could ever dream to be. He read three hours a day, if not more. He was an athletically built guy and played basketball with Emery and Caleb on the weekends. The girls swooned over him but he never worked up the guts to ask any of them out. He and I looked nearly identical – except he was a full head taller and six years older. Other than that, we both had the same dark brown hair, hazel eyes, and olive complexion. I had a heart-shaped face and high cheekbones and he had an angular jaw and slightly crooked nose from getting into a fistfight two years back. He wore glasses even though he didn’t need them.

    “Hey, Rory”, he had said one evening just as I was getting out of the shower. He made dinner Mondays through Thursdays and Saturday and I usually stuck a pizza in the oven on Fridays and Sundays. It was Tuesday night and he was just putting some lasagna on the table.

    “What’s cooking Doughboy; it smells great in here”, I said, wrapping my damp hair in a towel turban-style.

    “It’s Grandma Barb’s recipe. I found it crumpled up under the bed in the spare room”, he told me. He glanced around the dining room table which was cluttered with textbooks and old novels he had picked up at the second-hand store across the street from his work. “You can get started without me; I need to make a call”, he said, squeezing my shoulder and shuffling off to the spare room. I sat down and served myself a heaping piece of lasagna when the doorbell rang. I sighed, staring longingly at my dinner before standing to go answer the door.

    “You getting that, Rory?” Colin called, sticking his head out the door. I called back in the affirmative and fumbled with the lock. Whoever was there was awfully patient. I finally managed to open the door but the moment I did, I regretted it.

    “Is something the matter, officer?” I asked. He eyed me peculiarly with his hard eyes, staring me down.

    “Is this the residence of Colin Avery Bishop?” the man asked, crossing his arms across his chest.

    “Yes, I’m his little sister”, I answered, hesitantly. The officer didn’t even give me an answer before he shoved me out of the doorway and rampaged into the small house with four other officers just behind him.

    “Stop it! Stop it!” I screamed, grabbing the officer’s arm. “I demand an explanation!” The police shook me off and pulled out his gun. Another officer grabbed me from behind, tightening his hold around my waist. I gritted my teeth and kicked and screamed for him to let me go.

    “Rory!” Colin had heard me shouting and he raced out of the room, defenseless. Four cops leapt on him and he dropped to the ground under their weight.

    “Colin! Colin! Let me go you jerk! Let me go right now!” I shrieked, biting the officer’s beefy arm. He dropped me reflexively and I leapt on the back of an officer pinning Colin down. Sweat streaked down Colin’s forehead and he grimaced as the police forced handcuffs around his wrists.

    “Rory, stop moving!” he shouted forcefully at me. I froze. Tears swelled up in my eyes and my throat got tight. Colin had never yelled at me. Not once in my life. I released the cop and shrunk to the ground in despair. Colin stared at me – agonized, frightened, apologetic. The head police stood victoriously and yanked Colin to his feet. Blood oozed down Colin’s chin from a large gash in his lip.

    “Damn right, boy”, he said, shoving him angrily forward. He hesitated in front of me. Then he nodded and snapped his fingers. Two of the cops came and scooped me up. I had no energy left to fight back. My body was limp in their arms. I couldn’t defend myself, or my brother. I had been defeated.
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