I Chose My Castaway Brother

On the evening of my eighth birthday, I discovered for the very first time that I had an eighteen-year-old brother.

The party was in full swing when the front door swung open, letting in a draft of chill autumn air. My parents stepped in front of me immediately, shielding my party dress from the boy standing on the doormat.

My father cleared his throat, offering a tense, rehearsed smile to the few guests lingering in the foyer. "Just a young man from the backwoods helping us out with some maintenance this week."