Chapter 3: My Brother Arrived With His Own Version of the Truth
My mother read the message over my shoulder.
For a few seconds, she looked more like a frightened woman than the person who had raised me to believe our family could survive anything.
Then she straightened.
"Give me the phone.""
I pulled it away.
"Why?""
"Because I'm calling Andre.""
"He literally just told you not to let me call him.""
"He's not in charge of this house.""
"Then why are you listening to him?""
Her face tightened.
I regretted the question as soon as it left my mouth, but I didn't take it back.
Mom had spent the last several minutes demanding answers from Aaliyah. Yet now that Andre had finally entered the conversation, she seemed ready to let him control the timing.
She reached for the phone again.
I stepped away.
"No. I'm not waiting for him to decide when I get to know what's happening.""
"Nico, think before you act.""
"I've been thinking all afternoon!""
I held up my phone.
"She says she might be carrying my baby or his baby. He knows about it. He knew before I did. And now he's sending messages like we're supposed to follow his instructions?""
Mom's mouth tightened.
"I am not taking his side.""
"Then stop making excuses for him.""
She looked as if I'd slapped her.
For one moment, neither of us spoke.
Then she lowered herself onto the couch and pressed her fingertips against her forehead.
"I need you to understand something," she said.
"Andre is my son. So are you. Whatever happened, I'm not going to stop loving either of you.""
"I didn't ask you to stop loving him.""
"Then what are you asking me to do?""
I looked toward the front door.
"Tell the truth. Even if it makes him look bad.""
Mom's eyes filled, but she blinked the tears away.
"Do you think I don't want the truth?""
"I don't know what you want anymore.""
The words hung between us.
She looked down at her hands.
I almost apologized.
Then I remembered Aaliyah's face when she'd admitted that Andre knew.
And I remembered the message on my phone.
Whatever Aaliyah told you, don't believe she was the only one keeping secrets.
I sat in the armchair opposite Mom and opened our family group chat.
There were years of ordinary messages in it. Birthday wishes. Pictures of holiday dinners.
Andre joking about my terrible haircut. Mom reminding us to call Grandma.
I scrolled back to June.
On the night I'd gone to Malik's birthday, Andre had sent a message at 9:18 p.m.
Everybody good at the house?
Mom had replied, All good.
I had sent a picture from Malik's backyard at 9:42.
Andre had reacted with a laughing emoji.
At the time, nothing about those messages had seemed strange.
Now I stared at them until the letters blurred.
"What are you looking at?"" Mom asked.
"June.""
She leaned forward.
I turned the phone toward her.
Her eyes moved over the messages.
"That doesn't prove anything," she said.
"I didn't say it did.""
I swiped upward.
A few days later, Andre had sent another message.
Need to talk to you about something important.
Mom had answered privately, judging by the way the conversation disappeared from the group chat.
I opened my messages with him.
There was nothing about it there.
No warning. No explanation. Nothing.
I looked at Mom.
"What did he need to talk to you about?""
She went still.
"I don't remember.""
"Mom.""
"It was months ago.""
"What was it?""
She stood abruptly and walked toward the kitchen.
"I need to put these groceries away.""
I stared after her.
"You've got to be kidding me.""
"I'm not doing this while we're both upset.""
She lifted the bag of chicken and placed it in the refrigerator. The carton of eggs made a small, hollow sound as she moved it to the counter.
I followed her.
"Was it about Aaliyah?""
She stopped with one hand on the refrigerator door.
That was all the confirmation I needed that she remembered something.
"Mom.""
She slowly closed the refrigerator.
"Andre told me he was dealing with a personal problem," she said.
"He asked me not to interfere.""
"What kind of problem?""
"He didn't explain everything.""
"But you knew something was wrong.""
"I knew he was upset.""
"Why didn't you tell me?""
"Because he asked me not to.""
I stared at her.
"So he gets to ask you for secrecy, and you just do whatever he says?""
"That is not fair.""
"Neither is any of this!""
My voice cracked.
I turned away, breathing hard.
Mom reached toward my shoulder, but I stepped out of reach.
I didn't want comfort from someone who might have known more than she was telling me.
The doorbell rang.
We both froze.
Mom glanced at the clock above the stove.
Then at me.
I knew who it was before she said his name.
Andre.
Mom walked to the front door, but I got there first.
When I opened it, my brother stood on the porch wearing a black T-shirt, dark jeans, and the white sneakers he'd bought before leaving for work out of state. He held his car keys in one hand and a folded piece of paper in the other.
His face was serious.
Too serious.
"Hey, little man," he said.
I stared at him.
"Don't call me that.""
His expression shifted.
"Okay.""
He glanced past me.
"Ma here?""
"Obviously.""
Andre stepped inside, and I moved aside only because I didn't want him brushing against me.
Mom appeared in the hallway.
"Andre.""
"Hey, Ma.""
She studied his face.
"What's going on?""
He looked at me.
"I think we should sit down.""
"No," I said.
"You can start talking right here.""
Andre exhaled through his nose.
"Nico, I know you're angry.""
"You don't know anything about how I feel.""
"You're right. I don't.""
That answer caught me off guard.
I'd expected him to tell me I was overreacting. I expected him to blame Aaliyah, blame the circumstances, or remind me that he was older and knew better.
Instead, he looked tired.
For half a second, I almost believed he was going to tell the truth.
Then he placed the folded paper on the coffee table.
"I came here because there's something you need to understand about June.""
"Then explain it.""
He glanced at Mom.
She folded her arms.
"Don't look at me," she said.
"You came here to talk.""
Andre nodded slowly.
He sat on the edge of the couch, leaving a space between himself and the cushion where Aaliyah had been sitting.
"I did spend time with Aaliyah that night," he said.
I laughed bitterly.
"We've established that.""
"Let me finish.""
"Then hurry up.""
Andre looked at his hands.
"She and I were talking. Things got out of hand. We made a mistake.""
"A mistake?""
I stepped closer.
"You slept with my girlfriend, and you're calling it a mistake?""
His eyes lifted.
"I know how it sounds.""
"No, you don't. Because if you did, you wouldn't be sitting in my house talking like you forgot to return somebody's headphones.""
Mom stepped between us.
"Nico, let him finish.""
I looked at her.
"Why does everybody keep saying that?""
"Because we need to know the whole story!""
I backed away, my hands trembling.
"Fine. Tell it.""
Andre swallowed.
"I didn't know she was going to get pregnant.""
"That's not the question.""
"I know.""
"Did you know she might be pregnant before she told me?""
He didn't answer.
I felt my stomach twist.
"Andre.""
He rubbed his palm over his mouth.
"Yes.""
My mother closed her eyes.
I looked at my brother as if I were seeing him for the first time.
"You knew.""
"I found out three weeks ago.""
"And you didn't call me?""
"I wanted to talk to her first.""
"Why?""
"Because I didn't know what she was going to do.""
I stared at him.
"What she was going to do?""
He shook his head.
"That's not what I meant.""
"Then what did you mean?""
Andre leaned forward, his elbows on his knees.
"I was trying to figure out what happened. We didn't use protection that night, and I knew there was a possibility.""
Mom pressed a hand to her chest.
"Oh, Lord.""
I could barely breathe.
Andre continued, his voice low.
"When she told me she was pregnant, I asked whether she'd told you. She said no. I told her she needed to be honest with you.""
"Three weeks ago," I repeated.
"You told her to be honest with me three weeks ago, but you couldn't do it yourself?""
He looked away.
"I was scared.""
I let out a disbelieving laugh.
"You're twenty-two.""
"And you're seventeen. You think being older means you stop being afraid?""
"Being older means you should know better than to betray your own brother!""
Andre stood.
"I know I messed up!""
His voice filled the living room.
For the first time, his calm expression cracked.
"I've been thinking about it every day. I haven't slept right. I keep wondering what happens if that baby is mine. I keep wondering how I'm supposed to look at you after what I did.""
I stared at him.
"Maybe you should have wondered about that before you went near her.""
He flinched.
Good.
For once, I wanted him to feel the weight of what he'd done.
Mom sat down heavily.
"Andre, is the baby yours?""
He looked at her.
"I don't know.""
"Then why did you let your brother find out like this?""
Andre lowered his head.
"Because I was trying to get Aaliyah to tell him first.""
I shook my head.
"Stop blaming the timing on her. You knew. You could have come here any day in the last three weeks.""
He looked at me, and for the first time I saw something that looked like shame.
"You're right.""
The admission should have made me feel better.
It didn't.
I pointed toward the front door.
"I need you to leave.""
"Nico—"
"Leave.""
Mom stood.
"Baby, maybe we should—"
"No, Ma. I need him to go.""
Andre stared at me for a long moment.
Then he picked up his keys.
Before he reached the door, he turned back.
"There is one more thing," he said.
I didn't answer.
He looked at Mom, then at me.
"Aaliyah told me something else that night. Something she said she never told you.""
My pulse quickened.
"What?""
Andre hesitated.
Then he reached for the folded paper on the coffee table and opened it.
It wasn't a letter.
It was a printed message thread.
He held it out to me.
I didn't take it.
"What is that?""
"Messages between Aaliyah and me from June.""
Mom rose from the couch.
"Andre, what are you doing?""
"Showing him the truth.""
I snatched the paper from his hand.
The first few messages were ordinary. Aaliyah asking whether he was home. Andre asking whether she could talk.
Then a message from Aaliyah sent at 11:47 p.m. made my hands go cold.
I can't let Nico find out. He'll never forgive either of us.
Below it, Andre had replied:
Then we need to be sure what we're dealing with before we tell him anything.
I looked up.
"You were planning this together?""
"No," Andre said quickly.
"That's not what it means.""
I looked back at the paper.
There was another message beneath it.
One that had been sent the following morning.
And when I read those words, I realized that the betrayal I'd been trying to understand might have started long before the night in June.
Because Aaliyah hadn't just been afraid of losing me.
She'd been afraid I would discover something about my own family.
May you like
And the next message had come from a number I recognized immediately.
My mother's.
