The next week I walked into the office and Addie adjusted her glasses to the brim of her nose. It had taken her three days to return to work. She said she caught a nasty stomach bug. In those three days, I managed to set a record for the most clients seen at the clinic. Not to mention, I brought her mentees onto my team while she was out. They had no one to help them. It felt as if I were running my own law firm. A very mini-non-profit law firm. But I loved it.

Addie did not.

“Meg says you have the files on Haskins, Tate, and Bomstand.”

“Good morning.” I smiled. “Yes, I have those. Do you need them?”

“They are supposed to be my cases, so yes.”

I walked behind my desk and opened the top filing cabinet. “I thought maybe since you missed the first meetings you would be ok with me working on those. There are plenty more out there, Addie.”

She held her palm out to me. She wasn’t the kind of woman who discussed things. She didn’t chit-chat. She didn’t share personal stories. There was no morning coffee together, like I had with Meg.

“I was only trying to help.” I placed the files in her hands and she swiveled in her chair.

My phone buzzed. I looked at the screen and saw my favorite picture of my brother flash.

“I’m going to take this outside,” I announced. “I’ll be right back.”

I wanted her to go easy on the students. It wasn’t their fault she had been out with a stomach virus.

I jogged out of the office and down the hall to the bathroom.

“Garrett?” I answered, out of breath.

“It’s not working. It’s not working.” He was frantic.

“What’s not? What’s happening?”

“They’re making me sick. All the meds they put me on. Tell Mom to stop it. Can you do that?”

I leaned against the wall and closed my eyes. “Take a big breath for me and tell me what is going on. What are the meds? Are they something new?”

I heard him pause on the other end. I think sometimes that was the hardest part. Garrett listened to me. When he shut everyone else out, he listened to me. And I had left him behind, making his circle even smaller than it was.

“It’s the same stuff,” he groaned.

“Ok, then you know you need to take them regularly. The same time. Every single day. That’s the only way your body is going to find balance. You haven’t given it a chance. You’re on. You’re off. Let the medicine help you.”

“You don’t know what it feels like.” I could hear his breaths becoming more erratic. “They make me tired, like I’m looking through a bubble of glass. I hate them, Emily.”

I sighed. “I know you do. But how are things going to get better if you don’t try what you have to try?”

“I’m doing this on my own.” He cleared his throat.

“What?”

“I’m moving out. I’m going to detox this crap out of my system.”

I shook my head. If I were with him, I’d shake him. “No, no, no. Just six months. Try six months of staying on a schedule and then if you don’t like how you feel we can try something else, but don’t do this, Garrett. Not like this.”

“I’m tired of fighting with Mom. Dad doesn’t give a shit. I have a buddy who is thinking of going into business with his cousin down at the beach.”

“Business? What kind of business?”

“Setting up a repair shop. Boats, cars, whatever.”

I tried to control the trembles that had started. “You don’t have a background in mechanics. What are you going to do there?”

“Graphic design of course. I’ll do the marketing. The website. They want me to do the logo.”

A woman walked inside with a little girl who couldn’t have been more than five. I tried to smile at them as I slipped out the door and outside. I didn’t want to be too far away from the office in case Addie started searching for me, but I couldn’t leave Garrett in the middle of this.

He was in the middle of one of his highs. A high I had experienced way too often. And I knew what was coming next—the low. But when? How many days or weeks would it take?

“Just listen to me for a minute. I don’t think you have to pick up and move to work on this opportunity. It’s great they see how talented you are. Because you are an amazing graphic designer. But why not stay at home where you can focus on recovery and then if you have free time, you can freelance for them?”

“No, sis. I’m all in.”

Damn it. I knew that’s what he would say.

“Can we at least talk about this tonight when I get home from work? I want to know who these guys are. Have you looked at their business plan? Where is the shop? What beach? The details are important here.”

He laughed. “Well, here’s the surprise.”

I cringed.

“I’m in the car. Already packed. I’m driving right now.”

“Holy shit. Does Mom know you left?”

“No, but I did leave a note this time so she won’t freak out and call the police.”

“Damn it, Garrett,” I seethed into the phone. “You have an illness and you have to take care of yourself. You’re going to break her heart.” I left out the part about how many times he had broken mine. I had scars that were jagged and deep.

“She’ll be fine. She’s Mom.”

Meg poked her head out of the door and waved me in. I knew the waiting room was full by now.

“Listen, drive carefully. Take your meds, and I will call you tonight.”

“I’ll do two out of those three.” He was laughing. He never took my worry seriously.

“Garrett, please.”

“Stop worrying. Don’t you think if there were something really wrong, you’d feel it? You know that psychic twin connection you always said we have?”

I wiped a tear from the corner of my eye. I pulled my finger away, smudged with mascara. I did feel it. It was terribly wrong. He was driving off a cliff. Over the side with a smile on his face because he thought he had found freedom. He thought he had broken free from his prison. He always forgot the prison was freedom. He couldn’t exist in the world without medical help.

In two weeks he’d be huddled in the corner of his room, crying and begging his friends to help him hurt himself. He’d call me at all hours of the night, wanting me to get him. His personal detox of whatever stabilizing drugs were in his system would take him to the brink of insanity. He’d stop eating. He’d drink. He’d use any drugs someone offered him to erase the pain.

Last time it was heroin. Before it had been cocaine. He would end up in the hospital, strapped to a bed, being forced sedatives and anti-anxiety medication.

Meg’s arm movements got bigger and bigger. I had to go before she tried to drag me in the building.

“Garrett, we will talk. I love you.”

I hung up and trudged into the building. The women in here counted on me to help them and right now I didn’t know how to help my own brother.