The gift mix-up happened at two thirty in the afternoon.The five of us had just come home from a celebratory lunch: Mom, Dad, my older sister Nora, my adopted brother Logan, and me.Lunch had been wonderful. My parents kept praising my work, Nora raised a glass to me, and even Logan told me how impressive I was. For once, I felt warm all the way through.We'd barely settled into the living room when Mom emerged from her bedroom carrying three wrapped boxes.The first went to Nora: the latest designer watch.I glanced at it, then went back to peeling a tangerine.The second was for Logan.Ten years earlier, one of Dad's business associates had suffered a family tragedy, leaving his son with no one to care for him. Dad had brought the boy home."Asher, Logan's your little brother now," he'd told me. "Look after him."That had been ten years ago. I'd long since gotten used to it.Mom handed Logan a pair of limited-edition designer sneakers. They were worth more than ten times w
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