The day my twin brother was tortured to death by a criminal, he called my sister-in-law, a homicide detective, countless times. She didn't answer any of them. His voice was barely a whisper when he finally got through to me. "Bro, can you take care of Sarah and the kid for me? If I'm not there for them, they won't make it..." He didn't breathe his last until I nodded my head, promising him. What he didn't know was that I'd been secretly in love with Sarah for ten years myself. For a while, I thought I could finally be with her openly, even if it was under the pretense of being my brother. But even when our nephew, little Mikey, was kidnapped and tortured to death by the same criminal, she was out on the streets helping her old flame find his lost dog. That's when I realized it: Sarah had never loved my brother, never loved me, and probably didn't even care about her own son. The only person she ever cared about was that old flame. Eventually, I just gave up. I left the truth on her nightstand and took my brother and nephew's ashes far away from her... And she went completely nuts, searching the world for us, begging for forgiveness. ... My five-year-old nephew was kidnapped by Sarah's old enemies, just to get her to show her face. "We're giving you two hours! Get Sarah down here! Or you can start planning a funeral!" Hearing the news that Mikey had been snatched felt like getting hit by a freight train. My brother’s dying wish echoed in my ears. Mikey couldn't die. He just couldn't. I went into a frenzy trying to find Sarah, but all I saw was her post on social media about a lost dog. "Huge reward for my baby, Buster! If you find him, I’ll make it worth your while!" The picture showed her snuggled up close with her old boyfriend, Rick, hugging a little dog like they were one big happy family. My blood boiled. I finally got through to her on the phone with two hours to spare. "Sarah, where are you? Mikey's been kidnapped! They want you to come, can you send the police to rescue him? He's only five years old..." She cut me off before I could even finish. Her voice was ice cold. "Is he dead yet? If not, don't bother me!" "He went to kindergarten! What could have happened? You think you can threaten me with my own kid?" "Buster is Rick's therapy dog, you know. If he can't find Buster, he'll be depressed! Can you just stop being so selfish?" My fingernails dug into my palms, but the pain wasn't a fraction of the pain in my heart. A living, breathing child meant less than a dog?! In the kidnapper's video, Mikey was crying his heart out. Even with his tendons cut, his little face still held a glimmer of hope. "Mom is a homicide detective! Mom will come save me..." But she never showed up. Instead, she told her colleagues to ignore me. I went to the police station, begging them to go after him, but they just laughed. "Tsk, guess the Captain was right. Lying right here at the station! You know it's against the law to make a false police report?!" I cried, desperate, bowing to them over and over again to try and get them to help. "Please... please, he's really been kidnapped! I'll do anything. Please, just help..." I was bleeding from the head when the officer in charge finally looked at me. "Enough! Stop with the theatrics. I don't mind telling you, the Captain took the whole squad out to find that dog..." "Rick is the most important person in her life, everyone else can just wait." I was at the end of my rope. I did the only thing I could, I posted about it online, asking for anyone to help. But I was too late. By the time I arrived at the scene, the kidnappers were gone, leaving Mikey dying on the ground. The ground was covered in blood. His little body was broken and battered... He had over a dozen stab wounds, and his tendons had been sliced. He was only five! How could anyone do that to him?! His eyes were already glazed over, but he refused to close them... He opened his mouth, his voice so faint I could barely hear him. "Why...? Why didn't Mom come save me...?" "Am I really worth less than Uncle Rick’s dog?" I just shook my head. A metallic taste filled my mouth. The grief was so overwhelming I couldn't speak. "Dad... I'm sorry. I can't play soccer with you anymore..." Every word he spoke cut me deeper. "No, you're not my dad. I knew you were my uncle all along... But I love you, too. Maybe we can be real father and son next time, okay..." Mikey's hand went limp. I stared at him, tears streaming down my face. He knew? But he still treated me with such pure love. It was my fault. I failed to protect him... I held him close and ran outside, desperate. My phone accidentally turned on the video in my social media feed. I heard Sarah's happy, excited voice, "Thank you, everyone! My dog is home!" "Woof woof!" "Buster, stop licking me, you tickle! Haha." My grief and Sarah's joy collided, twisting into something grotesque. 2 I don't know how I made it home... I remembered that every time I opened the door, Mikey would run to me, hug me, and call me Dad. But now, even when I held him tight, trying to warm him up, he just got colder and colder, until he was completely lifeless. My hands shook as I washed his body, putting him in his favorite clothes to send him on his final journey. When my brother died, Mikey was barely two years old. Sarah was always at the station, never home. I had to raise him myself. A clueless kid playing dad and mom. But that little baby would cry whenever I held him. I always thought I was just clumsy. Now I knew, from the very first day, he knew I wasn't his real father. My brother was gone. But he didn't call me out. Instead, he slowly grew to depend on me, calling me "Dad..." My phone buzzed in my pocket. I choked back my grief and opened it... I was flooded with messages from strangers: "Did you find him? We're all worried! Hope to hear good news!" "Praying for the little guy!" "Need any help? I'm big and strong! I'll help get your kid back..." I mechanically scrolled through the hundreds of messages, searching for one familiar name. Why? Why couldn't I find a single word from her? Why was the child's own mother so cold? I trembled, posting a funeral announcement online. Just a few lines, but they drained all the strength from my body. 3 I held Mikey all night. At dawn, I took him to the funeral home alone and made the arrangements. A vibrant, happy little boy was now just a small box. I was barely back home when Sarah and Rick showed up, glaring at me. As soon as I came inside, she stormed over, her face contorted with rage. Smack! A stinging slap across my face. "You son of a bitch! You posted a death notice online just to get me to come back!" I touched my burning cheek and glared back at the two of them. "Mikey is dead, Sarah." "Liar!" Sarah's eyes were wide with fury. "He's fine! You just hid him somewhere! Where is he, huh? Give him back now!" "I'm telling you, he's dead!" I roared, grief and anger exploding inside me. "He was kidnapped and tortured while you were out looking for Rick's dog! Happy now?!" Sarah froze, considering my words. Rick stepped forward and gently put his arm around her shoulder. "Hey, man, it's not like police work doesn't matter what it is. My dog is important to me, and Sarah was just trying to help. You don’t have to threaten her like that." Rick even started to cry. "If you don't like me, I'll leave. Just bring Mikey back. Please..." Hearing Rick's fake tears and phony words, Sarah's anger flared again. She pointed at me, screaming, "How many times are you going to pull this crap?! Three years ago, I picked up Rick from the airport, and you did the same thing." "You said you were going to die, you were being held hostage! But look at you! You're standing right in front of me! You think you can trick me with these lies?! You should have died!" "What... what did you say?" I stared at her, stunned. "I said, YOU - THREE YEARS AGO - SHOULD HAVE DIED!" "I told you, Rick and I are just friends. He has depression, he’s not very healthy, can’t you understand?! And you make a big deal out of it every time!” A wave of pain washed over me... My mind went blank. All I could hear were my brother's last words. "Bro, can you take care of Sarah and the kid for me? If I'm not there for them, they won't make it..." I started to laugh. It was like hearing a bad joke. My brother, you were such a fool. Three years ago, you were being tortured, your life a living hell. You had a gun to your head, but you wouldn't say a word about Sarah. Sarah was holding Rick's hand, celebrating his return to the country. Every phone call you made, every ounce of energy you expended to get through to her, she ignored. We loved her with all our hearts, but this woman trampled our love under her feet... "Hahahaha..." I laughed and fell to my knees, laughter turning into sobs. Tears streamed down my face. She stared at me, a flicker of shock crossing her face before it hardened again. "What's wrong with you?!" "Haha, you drove me crazy! And you got what you wanted, I died! Three years ago! I'm his brother, Alex! He begged me to take care of you and Mikey! What did you do?!" I looked up, my eyes bloodshot, staring at Sarah and Rick. "You got Mikey killed!" Rick glared at me, then put on a hurt expression. "Hey, man, why you blaming me for? If I hadn't been feeling down because I couldn't find Buster, then Sarah wouldn't have ignored you, so blame me, not her, okay? You don’t want her to be sad, so you shouldn’t say things that hurt her!” Before, I would have given way. But not this time. I jumped to my feet, grabbed Rick by the throat. He gasped and choked, struggling to breathe. "Sarah, you let this scumbag get your husband and son killed! How can you live with yourself?!" 4 Before I could tighten my grip, Sarah was behind me. She drew her gun and pressed it to my head, her voice cold and sharp. "You're Jacob! What are you pretending for?!" "Try to hurt Rick, and I'll pull the trigger!" I froze. The cold metal against my skull filled me with despair. This was the woman my brother and I had spent thirteen years protecting... I didn't resist. I just turned my head, looked into Sarah's cold eyes, and gave her a bitter smile. "Go ahead! Do it!" I grabbed the gun, pressed it against my temple. "You've already killed two people who loved you. What's one more?" Sarah's body shook. Her eyes widened, and she lost her composure... Her hand trembled. "I know that face! Tell me where Mikey is..." I took a deep breath and pulled the urn out of my pocket. "Mikey's right here!" Sarah let go of Rick and grabbed the urn, looking at me like she couldn’t believe what was happening. Then she gave it to Rick. Without me realizing it, Rick opened the urn and stared at the dust inside, laughing. "Hey, man, Jacob is putting on a show! He got an urn with something, look! You can see the Optimus Prime, he probably got it from that blind box! This is flour, hahaha..." He was going to empty the urn out! "You monster! You won't leave the kid's ashes alone!" I lunged at him, grabbing the urn, wanting to tear him apart. "Enough!" Sarah pulled me back. "You're delusional!" "How can you not tell the difference, Sarah? Stop lying!" Sarah threw the urn to the ground, Mikey’s ashes scattering everywhere. My blood froze, replaced by emptiness and despair. Behind Sarah, Rick smiled, saying in a silent voice, "Even in death, you’re nothing compared to me..." I looked at him and gave a sad smile. No. I give up... I started picking up the ashes, carefully placing them back in the urn. I touched the necklace I wore, made from my brother's ashes. My eyes were empty, filled with despair. "Let's get a divorce, Sarah. It doesn't matter if I'm Jacob, it doesn't matter if Mikey is dead..." "Let's get a divorce." Sarah shook. “What do you mean,” Sarah asked pulling out the necklace. “Let's go to the station and test your DNA…”
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