They provoke it deliberately, because a furious relative is easier to discredit than a careful one.

I knew all of this the way I know my own name, and so I made myself do the hardest thing I have ever done, which was to feel the full weight of what my brother had done to my father and to not act on it — to hold the rage in one hand and the evidence in the other and choose, deliberately, over and over across that long night, the evidence.

Every photograph I took instead of a swing I threw was an act of love toward my father and a nail in my brother’s case.

I told myself that.