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this situation that had gotten out of control. Over the past year, I’d tried to help him, and had often been foolish enough to believe that he’d had a breakthrough, only to find him slumped on his bed in a drunken stupor in the middle of the day. Even though I pitied Brett, it was time to be cruel in order to be kind.
    “Don’t you understand that the only person who can truly help you out of this mess is you?” I asked.
    “I need you Kate.”
    “No.” Brett looked up at me, his gray eyes full of tears. “You have to help yourself now. I can’t protect you anymore.” I took a step back trying not to allow the tears to escape.
    “Kate, please don’t give up on me,” Brett begged, and as he slid off the couch, he grabbed at my ankles. He was more of a mess than I’d initially thought.
    My mother entered the room and, seeing Brett in a heap at my ankles, flew over to him, ready to defend his drunken behavior again. I ignored her scolding look.
    “Kate, why would you taunt your brother like this? What has gotten into you?” she asked. Her face was pale and gaunt, her cheekbones more prominent than ever. She looked as much of a mess as Brett. But I wasn’t about to let her defend Brett after all the help and support that I’d offered him when she didn’t even want to deal with him.
    “He’s the one hurting himself, Mom. He’s drinking to block out his pain and insecurities. He just admitted it.”
    My mother’s cheeks flushed. “Kate, you’re over-reacting and upsetting your brother. I don’t know what’s gotten into you lately but you’ve been acting differently,” she said as she pulled Brett back up onto the couch.
    “That’s so typical of you, Mom—finding someone else to inflict your guilt on. Don’t you think it’s about time you stepped up and took responsibility for your son?” I asked, allowing my pent-up hurt and emotions to explode.
    I stormed off, wiping away my tears, and I could hear Brett desperately calling out to me like an upset child, but I couldn’t turn back. Brett needed this push. If he didn’t have me to lean on, then my parents would have to get him the help he needed.
    Despite putting up a hard front, I knew that I’d be keeping a close eye on my brother. We’d always had each other’s backs and I would always be there for him, even though he probably hated me right now. With my emotions at the boiling point, all I wanted was to find Jack so he could hold me and offer me the comfort I needed. But I had to stay home—for Brett’s sake.
    I sat at my dresser, holding a wad of tissues just in case my tears surfaced again. As I looked in the mirror, I thought about my mother’s comment and my actions over the past few days. As much as it hurt to admit it, I had been acting differently. I’d found my hidden confidence and had used it to rebel against my mother and Brett.
    I picked up my brush and fixed my hair, trying to rationalize my sudden change in character. But all I could think about was Jack. He made me feel good and I hungered to be with him. As I sat silently, there was a knock at the door.
    “Come in,” I said reluctantly, and continued brushing my hair.
    “Kate, you need to come downstairs,” my mother said.
    “What for, Mom? It’s your turn to deal with Brett now. He’s your responsibility, not mine.”
    “I know. You’re right, Kate. I’m accepting responsibility for Brett. I’m taking action to help him, even if it will humiliate our family.” My mother’s voice was wavering and I looked up and saw that she was upset. “That’s why you have to come downstairs. You need to say goodbye to your brother,” she said, fighting back tears.
    I threw down the brush and flew out of the chair. “Why? Where’s he going?” I asked, as nausea settled in my stomach.
    “Brett needs professional help, Kate. I can’t offer him that and neither can you. He’s going to a rehabilitation center.”
My stomach was churning. “So, you’re sending him