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I gave Phil a quick kiss and then joined the line of visitors filing into the prison. I was used to the routine of prison visits at this point. Phil and I visited Paul at least once a month. It had become sort of a tradition to drive to New York, spend at least a night there, and drive back the next day after seeing Paul. I was used to the ritual of being checked, handing over my phone, and walking through the metal detectors.
My nerves about walking into a prison had long since fled, but seeing as how I wasn’t seeing Paul today, my nerves had returned with a vengeance. The visitation room was slightly different to the one in New York. It was a little larger, and the tables and chairs looked like they were in better condition. I sat down at a table in the corner and waited till the prisoners were brought in.
I almost didn’t recognize Brent when he walked in. He shuffled his feet and kept his head down. He had lost a lot of weight and had shaved off all his hair. He looked every bit the hardened criminal, except that when I looked into his eyes, I saw my brother. Not the man he had become in adulthood, but the scared little boy who used to run to Mom for everything when we were kids.
When he saw me, he stood there for a moment and then shuffled towards me. He sat down in the chair opposite, but he didn’t say a word.
“Hi, Brent,” I said.
“What are you doing here?” he asked bluntly.
“I wanted to come see you,” I replied.
“Why now?”
“I would have thought that was obvious,” I said. “It took me a while to start to forgive you for what you did.”
“I was trying to survive,” he said, looking up at me.
“By framing your friend?”
“You loved him more than me, even before you knew him,” he said accusingly. “I am your brother—and you chose a complete stranger over me.”
I sat back, realizing that Brent was still casting himself as the victim. I felt a large pull of disappointment dragging me down, but I refused to be owned by it. I had suspected that my parents’ visits and calls might only be enab
ling his attitude, but I had hoped that life in prison had made a man out of Brent and taught him a few things.
“We are siblings.” I nodded. “Which is why I’m here now. But, Brent… Family is more than just sharing blood and relations. You are my brother, but Phil is my family.”
Brent looked up at me. “You’re still with him then?”
I nodded. “Yes,” I replied. “In fact…we got married last month.”
He raised his eyebrows a little. “Mom and Dad didn’t mention that to me on their last visit.”
“That’s because they don’t know,” I said. “When I told them Phil and I were engaged… Well, let’s just say they were less than thrilled. I think Mom actually believed she could talk me out of it; she said it would be a betrayal to you to marry Phil. It didn’t seem to matter that you were the guilty one and he is and always has been innocent.”
Brent looked down, but said nothing.
“Do you really feel no remorse at all for what you did?” I asked. “Do you really wish you’d gotten away with framing an innocent man?”
“What do you think?”
“You know what… I honestly don’t know,” I said. “I’d hate to think that you were that kind of person, Brent. Because I actually think you were a pretty decent guy, but somewhere down the line you started to change.”
“I started to adapt.”
“You started to make bad decisions,” I told him. “And that’s not going to change if you keep blaming the world for the things that you do wrong. You’re going to get out of here and you’re going to do something stupid again and you’re going to end up here again. Is that really what you want?”
“Why are you here, Megan?” Brent asked abruptly.
I sighed. “I’m here because… I got married last month and my parents weren’t at my wedding. My brother wasn’t at my wedding and a part of me was sad about that. I came here because despite everything, I still care about you, Brent, and I wanted to see how you were doing.”
“Is Phil here, too?”
I frowned. “Yes.”
Brent nodded. “Is he still pissed at me?”
