The silence rang between us.
What the hell did her brother do to make her think he was a murderer?
The doorbell rang downstairs, and we fell back into reality. Shiloh stood from the bed, straightening out her sweatshirt—mysweatshirt, which she had stolen weeks ago. The chaos of several voices traveled up to my room.
“Nox! Go help your sister with her bags!”
“Coming!” I shouted back. I grabbed Shiloh’s wrist before she left the room.
“Hey.” She looked up at me. “Are you okay?”
She rolled her eyes in true Shiloh fashion and nodded.
“I’m fine, Enoch. Just missing my brother today.”
I relished the fact that she was being so open with her feelings and pulled her in for a hug.
“I’m always here if you ever want to talk about him, you know. Okay?”
She nodded against my shoulder and stepped out of my embrace.
“Come on, let’s go see your favorite niece.”
I laughed and swatted her arm, “She’s my only niece, you dip.”
She chuckled softly and laced our fingers together, tugging me towards the stairs. I couldn’t contain the smile on my face as I got to share these happy moments with Shiloh and my family. I knew we couldn’t replace the missing piece her brother stole from her heart, but I prayed that maybe we could be enough today to help her forget that it was missing in the first place.
???
November 26, Friday
Shiloh
Sweat was pooling behind my knees and under my arms, as I sat crouched in the corner of the hot and smokey living room. The familiar smell of burning heroin and marijuana made its way through my lungs as I watched my dad blow rings of smoke out of his mouth. His arm was hung loosely on the back of the couch as Poncho, Kush, and Pedro focused on the TV that was playing a soccer game.
“Pedro, suba el volumen,” my dad said slowly, as if saying each word was taking every cell of energy he had.
Or maybe my brain was having trouble processing the words. I couldn’t remember, but maybe I’d also taken a hit from the pipe being passed around.
Pedro turned his head to me and asked me to turn the volume up. I scrunched up my face and looked down, noticing the remote control on the floor beside me. When I reached for it, I noticed something dried and red on my fingers, so I flipped my hand over and studied the reddish-brown substance that coated my palm. I rubbed it against my leg, and it began to flake off, dusting my shoes and the floor.
“¿Qué es esto?” I asked no one in particular as I held my palm towards the group of men.
Kush flipped his lighter closed and placed the heroin-covered foil he was burning on the coffee table. He pointed to something behind me with a wicked smile that sent a chill over my body despite how hot it was. My stomach clenched with apprehension as I slowly turned my head to the left.
Lying on the floor was a black trash bag wrapped in tape. I looked back at Kush with confusion. I watched as he sucked smoke through a straw, his brow raised as if tempting me to see what was inside the large trash bag.
I crawled on all fours towards the black bag that seemed to be begging for me to open it. I hesitantly held my hands over the slick material before I ripped it open.
Clothes. The hole I’d made revealed a piece of gray material. I looked back over my shoulder. All four men were watching me now. My dad motioned with his head for me to keep opening the bag, so I turned around and continued tearing the bag apart until something familiar came into view.
I gasped and fell back onto my butt, staring at the inked hand that had ‘PAIN’ across the knuckles. My stomach was churning as I tried to make sense of what I was seeing. I cautiously reached out for my brother’s hand, his cold, rigid fingers unfamiliar feeling as I gripped them.
“Mataste Javier,” my dad said behind me. His voice was slow and lazy sounding, without a trace of contempt as if he was simply stating a fact—like, I had red hair.
Maté Javier. Yo maté Javier.
I woke with my heart racing and an uncomfortable weight on my chest. My legs were trapped, and I kicked out aggressively. I was sticky and damp with sweat, but I needed to assure myself it wasn’t his blood as I wrestled out of the comforter and body weight that were trapping me.
