Twisted Truths

Chapter 7: Broken Promises

The hospital air was thick with antiseptic, that sterile, artificial smell that always made me feel like I was suffocating. I stood in the doorway of my brother's room, watching him from a distance. He was sitting up in bed, staring blankly at the TV. The same blank stare he'd had for years, ever since... well, ever since Chrissy ruined everything.

He didn't even recognize me anymore. The person sitting in that bed was a ghost of the man I once knew. My brother, who was so full of life, who had dreams and plans—was now nothing more than a shell. Because of her. Because of Christine and her lies.

I took a deep breath and stepped inside the room. My one heel clicking softly against the linoleum floor as I walked toward his bed. He didn't turn to look at me, didn't even blink as I sat down in the chair beside him. His eyes were glued to the television, but I knew he wasn't really watching.

"Hey," I whispered, though I wasn't expecting a response.

I leaned forward, resting my elbows on my knees, and just stared at him. It was hard to believe that this was the same man who used to be so vibrant, so full of energy. He had always protected me, always been there for me. And now, I was the one who had to protect him. But I had failed. I had failed miserably.

Christine had destroyed him. She accused him of something so vile, so disgusting, that he couldn't live with the shame. He had tried to take his own life not long after the accusation went public. And when he failed, it was like a part of him had died anyway. The brother I knew was gone, and all that was left was this... empty shell.

"I'm sorry," I said quietly, though I knew he couldn't hear me, or even if he could, he wouldn't understand.

I wanted to reach out and hold his hand, to tell him I was going to fix everything. But I couldn't. There was no fixing this. Not for him. Christine had taken that away from me.

"I'm making her pay for what she did to you," I whispered, my voice trembling with barely-contained rage. "You may not understand anymore, but I'm doing it. Every day, I make her life a little more miserable. I'm going to ruin her, just like she ruined you."

It wasn't enough, though. Nothing I did to Christine could ever truly make up for what she had done to my brother. But it was all I had. It was the only way I could cope with the anger, the hatred that boiled inside me every time I thought about her.

Claiming my brother raped her, he was only sixteen. How could he handle something like that? The sneers from people, the looks, the police investigation. Innocent but persecuted, he tried to take his own life. In a way, he was successful, just look at him now.

I glanced at my brother again, hoping for some kind of response, a flicker of recognition. But there was nothing. There never was.

My phone buzzed in my pocket, jolting me out of my thoughts. I pulled it out and glanced at the screen. A number I didn't recognize. For a moment, I considered ignoring it, but something made me answer.

"Hello?"

"Ms. Anderson?" a gravelly voice on the other end of the line asked.

"Yes, who is this?"

"It's Tony. Tony Donaldson. You hired me a few weeks ago. Private investigator, remember?"

For a moment, I was confused. A private investigator? And then it clicked. I had hired him a while back to dig into James, when he seemed distant, when I wasn't sure I could trust him. Men like that can never be trusted. But with everything that had happened the last few days. I had completely forgotten about it.

"Oh... Tony. Right. What's going on?"

"I've got some information for you. Important stuff. You're gonna want to hear this."