“I’m your brother, not Duane.”It was simple. That’s why he loved my mother – she was his mother too. Auden is my brother. Half-brother but s...ill brother. And Duane is ... All these thoughts were racing through my brain as I stared dumbly at Auden, until his arms were around me and he was squeezing me so tight it nearly hurt. 12 years of not knowing this, of knowing what was not true, of hating Duane and myself. I wanted to be angry with my mother for not telling me before. All the endless. I sipped water until she pulled the straw away. “Not too much,” she said. How do you feel?”“Like I was hit by a truck,” I said trying to speak normally. My words came out in a whisper.“Do you remember me?”The room did seem kind of familiar, but not her. Joyce was printed on her nametag. I guessed that she was in her thirties. She had short blonde hair that went in all directions ... on purpose I assumed, and she wore glasses. I shook my head no in answer to her question.“That’s okay,” she said,. More

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