M’s return was perfectly timed with our parents being gone. He dropped in for a moment and made some food. Standing in our kitchen, he still seemed tense. Quite honestly, I'm not sure when was the last time he hasn't seem tense.

He reeked of wine. And so, I asked again: “Is R.U okay..?”

It was bizarre, with how much fake calm he said a new tidbit I was not ready for. He didn't even look up from the grilled cheese he was making.

“His brother has been dead for two years now, did you know?”

I'm still not sure how was I supposed to respond.