“Your sister seems nice,” Scott said, for lack of something better to open the conversation with.
“More like my mom than a sister,” Brandon explained. “She was twenty-three when our parents were killed in a car accident. I was twelve. She took primary custody of me. It’s caused her some problems; her husband abandoned her just before their second kid was born. Said they didn’t need another mouth to feed and he was tired of paying for mine. Ali says that there were other problems and he was just using me as an excuse.” Brandon frowned down at his feet. “But that’s ancient history and still doesn’t help us with your problems for today. Now, I have to stay until five, and then I can drive you over to your hotel and get you set up. Or I can call you a cab. Whatever works for you.”
Guilt nibb
