The part I could not hold steady in my mind was my brother.

Delroy I could almost understand; he was a grasping man, and grasping men steal, and I had never expected much of him.

But Lonnie was my blood.

Lonnie had ridden in the back seat with me on the drives to the specialist we later stopped taking.

Lonnie had watched me learn to walk without a crutch, watched the limp settle into my body for good, and he had known the whole time that there was money — my money — sitting in a building he half-owned.

He had let me believe we were broke.