Mentioning my brother
During the conversation, my father nervously mentioned my brother, who had continued to live with them.
‘Your brother has been having a tough time,’ he said, looking down at his hands. My mother sighed heavily and nodded, avoiding my gaze.
‘He never really got on his feet after… after you left,’ she added quietly. The air in the café seemed to grow thicker as they broached a topic we had all avoided for so long.