Because right now, my brother is all of those things.
And because panicking won’t help either of us.
In the teaching world, patience is a virtue.And dealing with Marco has always felt like dealing with a child who never learned consequences.
So I’ll use every tool in my teacher toolbox to wade through this cesspool of fear and danger he’s dumped me into.
He exhales hard, eyes flicking to the rearview mirror again.
“I was in Europe,” he starts, jaw tight, “doing IT work for this data-mining group.Contract stuff.Off-books, but legit enough?—”
“Uh-huh,” I murmur flatly.
“And I,er, accidentally may have taken something.”
I laugh.It comes out sharp and humorless, scraping my throat.
“You mean you stole something,” I correct, my heart cracking even as anger flares, “and now the guys you took it from want it back.”
He flinches.
“It’s not that easy, okay?I needed money and?—”
“Oh, it’s always about what you need,” I snap, the calm slipping despite my best efforts.“It’s never about who you hurt along the way.You never thought about me—never once?—”
“Sabrina—”
“No,” I cut in, voice shaking now.“Don’t.Don’t try to soften this.Mom and Dad are gone, Marco.You’re all the family I have left, and you disappear for months at a time and then show up like this?”
My chest tightens.
Old wounds ache.
Fresh fear burns.
“Jesus, Marco,” I whisper.
Then my eyes dart to the road ahead, to the skyline looming closer through the windshield.
“Wait—are you taking me into the city?”
His grip tightens on the wheel.
“Yes.”
My stomach drops.
“Why?”I demand.“Why Manhattan?Why now?”
“Because I don’t have a choice,” he says hoarsely.“They’re already here, Brina.The people I took from?They’re closing in.And they already think—” He swallows hard.
“What do they think?”
“They already think I gave you the key.”
I go still.
“The key?”I repeat slowly.“What key?”
