𝐃𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐈𝐧 𝐃𝐞𝐛𝐭𝐬

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐅𝐨𝐮𝐫

𝐃𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞

The rumble of laughter echoes up from the living room, punctuated by the familiar thud of a game piece hitting the table. Monopoly— agian. My brothers are down there, no doubt battling over Mayfair and Park Lane like it's a matter of life and death.

Five voices blend together, each trying to out- shout the other, turning a simple board game into a full- blown battle of pride and patience.

It's chaos , the kind that drives a man half- mad if he's looking for quiet. But it's my kind of chaos.

Growing up with five brothers, you get used to the noise, the constant fight for space, the wrestling over the remote, the way they somehow make every single activity feel like a competition.

They drive me crazy, but I'd be lying if I said I didn't love it. Bossing them around is one of my life's finer pleasures; they know they'd better listen.

Especially now, with Dad gone, the weight of responsibility's landed square on my shoulders. And yet, for all the annoyance, there's something grounding about it. I've got five siblings under this roof, each one as wild as the next.

But, in the quiet corners of my mind, I hold on to the thought of a sixth.

It's strange, isn't it? To miss someone you've never met. Years ago, when the news broke that our former  mother had taken the baby we didn't know of, and vanished, it was like ripping the heart out of the family.

She didnt just leave; she took a part of us, a sibling none of us ever got the chance to know. Sometimes, when the house gets too loud or quiet, I find my self wondering.

Could I have a younger brother out there? Someone who'd look up to me, someone I could teach to throw a punch— or take one. Someone who'd mirror bits of me, the same stubborn steak. Maybe he'd be quieter, the type who'd stick to shadows but still watch everything. A presence who'd know things about me even I hadn't figure out yet.

Or maybe its a sister. The thought feels foreign, rare in our family, but still.. a sister. Someone I'd protect, someone I'd be much gentler , softer with, compared to my brothers. A kid who'd laugh at my jokes—because none of my brothers do —and give me the hell when I deserved it, who'd make me see things differently just by being there.

The ideas claw at me, pulling me back to the 'What if's' that I'll never have the answers to.

I don't know if they're alive, if they made it past that night. My mother—who I'd disowned long ago—wasn't exactly nurturing, and with the company she kept... well, survival would've been a miracle.
For all I know, they're gone, just a memory of someone I never even had.

My phone buzzes on the desk, jolting me from my thoughts. Officer Reynolds. When Celeste disappeared, we didn't even know where to begin. It was like she'd taken more than just herself; she'd stolen away every trace, every answer we might've reached for.

We knew nothing about the baby, nothing about where she'd gone, or which gang she'd ran to. She'd left us with an empty map and a thousand wrong turns, a broken compass in the middle of everything crumbling around us.

Back then, it felt like we were on the edge of a cliff with no way to climb back. I wanted to fix things, to make everyone feel whole again, but I didn't know how.