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“Put him down so he can get some shoes on,” Boseman said, “and then let’s get going.”

Micah asked, “Why does Jasper need shoes? Where’s he going?”

“I’m taking you both back to the house.”

“Wait, I’m not going to jail?”

“No, you’re not.” Boseman scowled at him. “Now hurry up, before I change my mind.”

Micah put me down and said, “I don’t understand. I violated the conditions of my sentence, and that should mean jail time.”

“Putting you in jail wouldn’t accomplish anything,” Boseman said. “You already know you fucked up, so I’m giving you a pass—just this once.”

“You can do that?”

“The paperwork’s going to be a bitch, but yeah, I can.” While he was talking, the PO pulled a phone from his pocket, accessed an app, and typed in some information. A moment later, the flashing red light on Micah’s anklet turned solid green.

I said, “Thank you,” and grabbed Boseman in a hug, while he remained perfectly rigid with his arms at his sides. Then I told him, “I’ll be right back.” I ran to my bedroom and stuffed my feet into a pair of sneakers, grabbed two jackets and Micah’s phone, and ran back to the living room.

I handed Micah an oversized zippered hoodie, and he put it on as we all left the apartment. As I locked the door behind us, he asked Boseman, “Can we please make a stop on the way home?”

His PO glared at him. “You’re pushing your luck.”

“I know, but my brother’s in town. He came by my house earlier, and I acted like a complete asshole and drove him away. I only need a few minutes, so I can apologize to him.”

Boseman thought about that, then said, “Fine, but I’m coming with you when you speak to him.”

“That’s fair.”

“Where’s he staying?”

“The penthouse suite at the Fairmont.”

Boseman muttered, “Of course he is.”

When we reached the street, we found Boseman’s black Ford Mustang double-parked in front of the building. There was a placard on the dashboard saying something about it being there on official business.

Micah and I climbed into the back seat, and I asked him, “What made you change your mind about apologizing to your brother?”

“I had a lot of time to think when I was failing to jog across town. I ran for the first six or seven blocks when I went after you, and then I had to slow to a walk because I thought my heart was going to explode. My cardio routine sucks,” Micah said. “Anyway, something you said hit me hard. You told me you’d give anything for five more minutes with your mom, and that my brother and I still have a chance to fix things before it’s too late. You’re absolutely right. Arlen’s the only family I have left, and despite everything that’s happened, I want him to be a part of my life. We’ve lost years because we’ve both been too stubborn to apologize, and one of us needs to step up.”

We pulled up in front of the historic hotel a few minutes later, and Boseman used the placard again to park illegally. The people at the front desk weren’t about to let us up to the penthouse suite, so Micah called his brother’s room from the opulent lobby and spoke briefly to his wife. She said she’d pass along the message that he was downstairs, so we took a seat and Boseman checked his watch.

“He’s going to make me wait as long as possible,” Micah said. “That’s if he decides to come down at all. He really is incredibly stubborn, and right now he knows he has the upper hand.”

Boseman was sitting on a gold-toned sofa across from us with his usual stony expression, and he muttered, “You two are exactly the same. That’s why you don’t get along.”

“I suppose that’s part of it,” Micah said. I was impressed that he could take Boseman’s criticism without becoming defensive. “Also though, we just weren’t ready for fame, and for life in the spotlight. Suddenly, every single thing we did was subject to public scrutiny. Arlen’s girlfriend left him because it got to be too much, and everyone we knew started coming to us for a handout, including our dad. We were happy to take care of him, of course, but…”

Boseman asked, “But what?”

“We bought him a six million dollar home and set up a huge bank account and investments for him, but it wasn’t enough. He started treating us like a pair of ATM machines. Everything was about money with him, and it really damaged our relationship.”

Micah studied the cream-colored stone floor, and after a moment he continued, “Pretty soon, all Arlen and I had left was each other. We were young, naïve, and under a huge amount of pressure. We didn’t know how to deal with it, so we ended up turning on each other like a pair of rats trapped in a cage.” Micah looked up at Boseman and added, “I’m not making excuses for the way we acted. I’m just trying to explain why it happened. It’s easy to blame the other person, but we were both equally at fault. I was just too stubborn to admit it, and that stubbornness ended up costing me my brother. It’s my biggest regret in life.”

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