Brandon was watching from the barn with a piece of haystraw hanging from the corner of his mouth. He saw Skyler the second his red head bobbed to the front of the bus.

His mom had brought him early because she knew there’d be an hysterical phone call, a crazy rush to the farm, prolly a trip to the ‘mergency room, and a few stitches. Wailing, screaming, crying and blame. Always blame. Always somebody else’s fault. Usually his. Not this time, though. He was safe.

Safely standing by Grandma. Ha- ha! He smirked and crossed his arms over his chest. He watched the old limping farmer march up to Skyler and grab him by the scruff of the neck like a bad puppy.

He ripped Skyler away from that monster flower thing, the scream that had been muffled came fully audible. All million decibles of it. Brandon dropped the haystraw from his mouth and clamped his hands over his ears at the piercing noise. Squinting his eyes, looking up at Grandma. He couldn’t help but grin.

He was a miniature version of his brother.