Chapter 2

Dylan was chubby. He lounged in a recliner, playing games on his phone, surrounded by chips and empty beer cans.

He called me “bro” once, then fell silent and went back to his game without even looking up.

I stormed over, grabbed him by the hair, and tried to haul him to his feet.

Mom and Dad immediately rushed over to stop me.

“Dylan just got home! Don’t you dare lay a hand on him! What if you drive him away again?”

I let out a bitter laugh.

“What else? If he wants to run away, let him! He should’ve died out there!

“That thirty thousand dollars he swindled us out of with a fake college acceptance letter? I earned that by signing a two-year contract that practically sold my freedom! Now he’s had his fun, racked up a mountain of debt, and expects me to pay it off for him?

“Dream on! I won’t give him another cent!”

Dylan wouldn’t meet my eyes. He lowered his head and muttered, “It’s not like I meant to lose it all. At my best, I’d won three million dollars. I thought I’d win another two million to make it an even five, then come home and build you all a new house. Who knew I’d lose everything and end up owing so much more?”

Mom seized on his words and began pleading with me.

“Logan, see? Your brother was thinking of us the whole time.

“I didn’t want to lie to you, either, but I had no choice! If your brother doesn’t pay up, those ruthless debt collectors will come and chop off his hands and feet! Your father and I prayed to every god we could think of for five years, begging for Dylan to come home. We can’t let anything happen to him now!”

Dad lit a cigarette and shot me a contemptuous look.

“Just transfer the money first. Let’s put this behind us and enjoy the holidays as a family. Once you’re back, I’ll find your brother a job so he can earn money and pay you back.”

Meanwhile, Dylan had already gone back to his game.

I’d reached my breaking point. I pointed at him and shouted, “Look at him! Does he look like someone who’s going to work hard and earn an honest living? I’ve seen plenty of gamblers like him. No matter how much money they get, it’s never enough to fill the hole they’ve dug! Giving him money is like throwing it to a dog—”

SMACK!

A vicious slap landed across my face.

Dad glared at me. “Shut up! He’s your younger brother. How can you say something like that about him?

“Your brother even knelt and swore to me that he’d never gamble again! He’s my own son. Do you think I can’t tell whether he means it?”

I pressed a hand to my burning cheek and stared at him.

“He’s your son. Am I not?”

The room fell deathly silent.

For a moment, I wondered if I really wasn’t their biological child.

I was seven years older than Dylan. By the time he was born, I was old enough to understand what was happening around me. Even then, I could sense how much our parents favored him. Everything good went to Dylan first.

It seemed like they always favored their youngest sons, and over time, I learned to accept it.

After all, they had given birth to me and raised me.

Later, when Dylan disappeared with the money, the entire burden of supporting the family fell on my shoulders. I never complained. I worked myself to the bone, even dreaming that one day, when I’d made enough money, I’d build my parents a little house back home.

I’d come to believe that my purpose in life was to make their lives better, earn their approval, and become a son they valued as much as Dylan.

But even after Dylan came home with an eight-hundred-thousand-dollar debt and a gambling addiction, he still managed to push me to the very edge of the family.

I broke the silence with a bitter smile.

“If you really believe Dylan can change, then figure out how to pay off his debt yourselves.

“I don’t have much money. I opened this store for you, and I still pay for the inventory every month. What’s left is barely enough to cover my own living expenses.”

With that, I turned to leave. I had no intention of staying for a meal, either.

Suddenly, Dylan began wailing.

“Fine! If you don’t want to help me, then I’ll leave! I’ll die out there if I have to. That way, I won’t be a burden to any of you!”

He charged toward the door, head down, but Mom hurried to stop him, crying as she clung to him.

Dad, meanwhile, grabbed me by the arm.

“Whether you want to give us the money or not, you’re going to hand it over!

“If you don’t have enough, borrow it! If anything happens to your brother, you’ll answer to me!”

My nose stung, and I clenched my teeth to keep my emotions in check.

“You want me to borrow money to fill the hole he dug?”

Dad spoke as though it were the most obvious thing in the world.

“You have a good job and earn plenty. Even if you go into debt, you’ll be able to pay it back…”

In the end, I agreed.

I told them I’d need time to borrow the money. I’d been driving all day and was exhausted, so I needed to rest first.

Then, while my parents closed the store and excitedly headed into town to buy liquor and groceries, I drove away.

I blocked every number and account they could use to contact me.

Since starting work, I’d spent several times more on them than they’d ever spent raising me.

I owed them nothing.

That was that.

This time, I was the one who disappeared.