“You’d like to know, right?” I say. My hands are shaking so I press them hard on the steel table. “Give me what’s mine,now”

The hoodie boy is silent after that, then he slowly takes off his hood.

I might just fall on the ground. If someone told me I was about to face this I would tell them I’d freak out, cry, pass out.

But I don’t. I suck in a breath and stare at him motionlessly.

“What are you doing” I say. It’s not even a question. Is it even my voice?

My brother looks at me without shame, but something is wrong with his stare. Nostalgia? Regret?

“I’m doing what nobody in the family had the guts to do” he says, without venom in his voice.

“Ariana I wouldn’t have asked you so much if it wasn’t necessary”

“You were necessary” I say, and I thank myself for not making my voice break. My eyes are wet, I feel them, but I won’t cry.

“You were necessary when dad died. You were necessary when everything collapsed. We could have started a new life but you had to play with them, like father did. And you know what? You’ll end your life the same way”

He winches, as if I picked a small spine out of his skin instead of showering him with my rage.

“They were gonna be part of our life anyway Ariana. Better for them being half alleys than full-on enemies don’t you think?”

“They are always enemies, Jer. They took father. Now they took you. Who’s next? I did all this to get you back and now YOU were the one who contacted me” I chuckle, a chuckle that sounds very similar to a choke or a cry.

“Take this Jer. Take it. I don’t care. Don’t you ever contact me again. I don’t want to have anything to do with those bastards” I say.

I leave the dirty bag on the table and make it out of the container, hearing him call after me just one time.

Then I take off running. Fuck the car, it could be a trap. So I run.

I run from the harbor to the city, from the city to the suburbs. It’s ten kilometers.

I am crying, my throat is burning, and Im filled with rage, regret, adrenaline and pain.

So much pain I almost feel it physically. It’s as if I was having a heart attack but I keep on running.

When I make it to my home steps, I collapse on them. My legs won’t work for two days after this effort. I crawl up on the steps and I try to calm down.

That’s all I can do.

I hear the door open, I feel warm hands, caring hands, trying to make me stand enough to be brought inside.

I finally do, my legs burning as my face.

As my insides.

“Oh, Ari” the smooth voice of my cousin says “come inside”