The Account Under the Bed
I never did.
His sentence was the law’s business and I was content to leave it there.
The number I cared about was zero — the number of years my brother would spend in a cell for a crime he had been maneuvered and threatened into — and when that number came back zero, I felt something unknot in me that had been knotted since the afternoon on the beach.
Jim did not come out of it whole.