On a beautiful winter day, Grant and I drove into the gates of San Quentin Prison. I had to beg Grant to let me visit Joaquín. Grant wanted us to move on, put this nightmare behind us, heal as a family. But no matter how awful Joaquín’s crimes had been, he was still my brother.

As I gazed at the gorgeous Bay, I marveled at the irony that Joaquín would spend the rest of his days locked up in our hometown with some of the most notorious inmates in history.

After Joaquín had recovered from me shooting him, he’d been charged with kidnapping, rape, and second-degree murder. This time, he didn’t even try to fight the charges. He had pled guilty, which was a huge relief because I didn’t want to live through a trial.

“Are you sure you want to see him?”

“Yes.”

Grant shook his head but didn’t fight with me. We’d settled into our new life easier than I had imagined. Luckily, Grant hadn’t deployed and was still on BUD/S instructor duty. I loved being a stay-at-home mommy for now. I finished my final course at SDSU and received my diploma and had started my masters in criminal justice. When Julián started preschool, I was thinking maybe one day I could work for NCIS.

Julián was thriving. We spent our days at the beach and at playdates with some of the other SEALs’ kids. He loved going to work with his daddy. Grant was an amazing father. So kind and patient. I was truly blessed.

The guards opened the gates and led me to the sitting area to await my brother. Grant sat by my side, refusing to let me come here alone.

Joaquín shuffled out in his orange prison jumpsuit, obviously having adapted better to prison life than I thought he would. Grant and I were both certain he was part of a gang, and after Grant told me about the drug- smuggling investigation, I didn’t question him. Neither of us knew if NCIS dropped their investigation or not, or if there were still some nefarious crimes haunting his SEAL Team.

Joaquín smiled when he saw me and even acknowledged Grant’s existence with a nod.

“What’s up, sis?”

“Not much. How are you?”

“Surviving.” His eyes were heavy. My heart ached, feeling his loneliness. “I miss you.”

“I miss you, too.” And I did. I missed who he had been to me.

“Look, I need to apologize to you. For everything. For raping you—I see now that it was rape. And for arranging for Julián to be taken. I’ve been in therapy and I realize now how fucked up I was. I hope one day you can forgive me.”

A big lump grew in my throat. Why hadn’t he sought out therapy earlier, before it was too late? My parents should’ve forced him to go.

“You don’t have to wait. I forgive you. I’m glad you’re getting help. I wish, I just wish—” I rocked back and forth and Grant reached out and held my hand.

“I’m really sorry, Mia. If I could take it back I would.”

I wanted to scream and break down. If only I could turn back time and help him. “Do you talk to anyone? On the outside?”

“I have some pen pals. This one chick is begging me to marry her.”

What the fuck? “Seriously? Who?”

“Her name is Larissa. She started writing me when I was first arraigned. She’s hot, but obviously crazy if she’s in love with me. California is only one of four states to allow fuck visits, so maybe I should marry her.”

Grant let out a laugh. “Do it, dude.”

Damn. Well, women always loved Joaquín. “Well, I don’t know. Maybe you should. I’m happy for you. I’m glad you have someone, someone you can talk to. I just wish . . . you could’ve found someone else earlier. Maybe everything would be different.”

He smirked. “I’ll always regret what I did, but I’ll never regret loving you.”

I bit my lip and choked back tears. I pressed my palm to the plexiglass and he pressed his hand back. “I’m not sure when I’m going to be able to come back. I’m in school and Grant’s deploying. I need to be with Julián.”

“It’s okay. It means the world to me that you’re still willing to visit me. I want you to know that I never wanted to hurt you.”

“I know. Bye, Joaquín.”

“Bye, Mia.”

I watched him walk away and wept for the sweet boy he had been, the brother I had loved, and the man he could’ve been.

I never understood the saying “there is a thin line between love and hate” until the moment I held a wounded Joaquín in my arms. You can’t turn love off. At least I couldn’t. I remember listening to an interview of a woman whose son had murdered people in a mass shooting. She wept, and I couldn’t imagine how she still loved her son.

But now, I knew.

I hated every bad thing Joaquín had ever done. He took everything from me and caused me unbearable pain, but sometimes, in my dreams, I remembered the little boy who had protected me from bullies, had held me when I feared the dark, had read me my favorite story over and over again.

Forgiveness is more powerful than love and hate. I made a decision not to live the rest of my life in a cog of what-ifs and regrets.

I took Grant’s hand. “Let’s get out of here.”

I led him through the halls and out the prison’s gates, promising to leave my past behind me and live for the future in front of us.

And I couldn’t wait to live it.