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Every single one of the people on the other side of the window, no matter what they’ve done, is someone’s favorite person. Someone’s kid. Someone’s brother or sister. Maybe most of them do deserve some kind of punishment, but how many Dannys are there?
The system sucks. I don’t know the perfect answer, but this isn’t it.
I'm shocked by his appearance when he comes out, flanked by a beefy guard who scowls around the room like he's just looking for an excuse to put the beatdown on someone. Danny was nineteen when he went in, a tall, scrawny kid. Now he’s a man I barely recognize. He filled out big like Dad, but he could use another ten pounds, at least. There’s a scattering of rough looking tattoos down his arms and on his neck. His sandy hair is shaved close, as is his beard.
His eyes, the same gray-blue as mine, watch me like a hawk. No, not a hawk, like a dog that someone beat until it views every new person as a potential source of pain. I sit down and put on my headset.
Danny’s lips thin as he sits down on the other side of the plexiglass and picks up his own headset. “So what do you want?” His voice crackles through the cheap headphones, but it’s him, my brother.
My eyes prickle with unshed tears. “Hi,” I say softly, because even with six years to think about it, I never came up with a better idea for how to greet my brother. “How are you doing?”
“Still breathing. The food has been a bit bland lately.”
I knew I wasn’t going to get a hug, but I was hoping for, I don’t know. A smile maybe? “God, Danny. Would it kill you to say hi?”
“So fucking sorry, Mila. Hi. Are you going to answer the question? The only reason I agreed to meet with you was because you said you had information about my trial. Is that true?” His hostility cuts me with a knife.
I have to remind myself that he’s been through a lot. We might as well be strangers with a shared past at this point. Even if he never forgives me or our parents, helping him is the right thing to do. Knowing all that doesn’t make it hurt any less. “It might be. I can’t exactly talk about it here, but I wanted you to know that I’m trying. I haven’t forgotten you.”
“You should,” he says in a dead voice.
“No. I don’t care how mean you are to me, I’m not letting this go.” I wipe the wetness from my eyes and hold my head up high. “I’ve found leads. Something with this system is broken, and I’m going to expose it. I’m going to meet with your att?—”
“Don’t you fucking dare! You think I’m being mean? I’d rather be mean than find out you’re dead. God fucking damn it,” he snarls under his breath. “Mom and Dad were right, I’m going to get you killed, but not for the reasons they thought.”
“Maybe you haven’t noticed, but you aren’t the only one that’s changed. I’m an adult and I can make my own decisions. I’m not stupid. I’ll be careful. Besides, what are you going to do? Stop me?”
His broad shoulders sag. “Let it go, Mini-mi.”
Seeing him like this breaks my heart. “I can’t.”
His sigh is thick with frustration. “It's not safe. There are powerful people who rely on the system being what it is. We’re just cogs in their machine. I’m… I’m fine. I keep my nose down and everyone knows better than to give me shit. Finish school, get a job and make a life for yourself. Don't go digging into things that aren't going to stand the light of day. Not all of the dangerous people are in here with me. There are a lot more outside.”
“I’m not scared. What happened to you isn’t right, and you probably aren’t the only one.”
“No fucking shit.” He grips the armrests on his chair so hard his knuckles are chalk white. “I know you want to save me, and I love you for it, but please. Just let me be in here, and don’t visit again. I can’t be the person I need to be to survive here and your brother at the same time.”
“Okay,” I lie.
He growls in annoyance. “You are such a brat. Why do you think you, a fucking college kid, can break open something that nobody else has tackled? Think about it.”
He sounds so defeatist, but as dangerous as he thinks being out here might be for me, it's nothing compared to the danger he's in. If he even comes out alive at the end of it, what kind of man will he be? What kind of man is he now?
No, I can't sit back and live my life while he rots in here. I’m better at digging than Danny thinks. Is it dangerous? Maybe. But it's worth it to get him back out. I'm going to blow this thing right open, and it'll be Danny's freedom, my thesis, my first real scoop and hopefully justice for everyone else who has been caught up in whatever is going on.
“You aren’t going to change your mind, are you?”
“Would you believe me if I said yes?”
He leans back to look up at the concrete ceiling, then chuckles. “No. I never could tell you what to do. I love you, Mila, and despite everything I'm really glad to see you. But kiddo? Don’t come back. I meant it. The Danny you knew died years ago, I’m just the asshole he left behind.” He gestures at himself with a tight-lipped smile. “Please, if you're going to keep looking into this, please, please, fucking please promise me that you're not going to take any stupid risks.”
Stupid is a very subjective thing. It makes it easy to honestly tell him, “I won't. I promise.”
Frustration at not being able to do anything is written in every line of his face, but he nods. “I'm going to hold you to that. When I finally get out of here, I’ll dig you up and kick your ass if you get killed.”
“Enough melodrama. Jeez.” I laugh, and after a moment, he joins in.
Apparently the guard thinks it looks like we're having too much fun, because that's the moment he chooses to step in and pat Danny on the shoulder. “Time's up,” he barks.
