“He was my brother too, you know?” Joshua continues in a whisper. Sweat breaks out on my forehead despite the cold, so I remove my jacket. “And no matter what he did, he was still my brother.” I swallow that painful truth with a deep sigh. “When I was in boarding school, he would always call. Even when they never did.” They. Our parents. I never called either. “One morning, he’s there being his usual arrogant self. The next morning, he’s not there. How in God’s name was I expected to deal with that?”
His words wash over me. Long buried guilt and resentment rouses. Shame sinks its claws into my skin as I stare at his hunched frame. At his feet. At the tiles that are wet with his tears. My eyes are too dry, I can’t bring myself to share in his sorrow. The guilt has drowned other emotions. I can only watch him.
“I was trying to find closure and somehow I found myself in your room.” We all lived together in Salford. It was a rule then, one we followed because we had so much to lose. For me, it was a place to sleep during the weekends until I became CEO and moved out permanently. “For a moment, I thought his death would change you. Your twin had just died, you should be sad. Hurt. Angry. Angrier than I was.” He inhales another shaky breath. “Look at your girls. If Wyn says no, it’s an automatic no for Bren. But I walk into your empty room and I’m going through your stuff only to see a blueprint. Piles and piles of sketches. A detailed murder plan.”
Hiding his face in his palms, he lets out a sound so painful, so gut-wrenching my chest constricts. It is harder to breathe. As hard as it was to find out I had a daughter. To hear that she slipped into a coma.
“Mother always said you were smart. I used to envy that about you. She said you would do great things.” Funny. She never said that to me. Not like it would have mattered. “Cold and calculated. No emotions. You would be great in the business world. You will survive. Weed out your opponents. If only she knew.”
But she knew. Her and her husband. They both did. Lost in the euphoria of finally wiping him off the surface of the earth plus dealing with the constant hospital visits to Brianna, I did a terrible job of hiding the evidence. I hadn’t even packed out of the house yet. I curl my hands into fists and glare at my blurry reflection on the tiles. The silence stretches. I feel like I should do something. Say something.
Maybe offer comfort but I am not sure how. Do I rub his back and apologise? Brendan wasn’t my brother alone, he was also his and I took him away from him. For that, I would always be sorry. If thirty-eight year old me could have a chat with my younger self, it’s the one thing I might have told him. Forgive him for Joshua’s sake.
But it’s too late. It doesn’t matter now. I am the brother killer. I killed his brother.
“I mean, he could be an ass sometimes.” Joshua is not done talking, I wish he was. His voice is raw with sadness and my heart aches from having to listen to it. I should have delayed coming home. “You are a fucking ass all the time but I never wish you dead. I still love you. I will always love you.” A sad smile jumps to my lips. I love him too even if I have never told him to his face. “But why? Why did you do it?”
Why did I do it?
I uncurl my fists, stare at my palms and the lines. If I visit a palm reader, what will they have to say about me? I splay my hands on my knees. “A lot of reasons.” I feel his gaze on me but I cannot look up from my hands. “I think I just snapped.”
“Why? What made you snap?”
It was that moment we had been waiting for. A few weeks for our parents to make an announcement. The long awaited announcement. Would I become the CEO or him? I think I would have won. He must have believed so too.
The call about a daughter came first. The teasing started, then the blackmails followed.
Brianna looked so pretty with her one-sided dimple. Hair the same colour as mine with eyes that wanted to know more. I imagined poking her dimple with my finger each time she smiled but it never happened.
So in love with her, at the thought of having a replica of me, I took the trip down to the orphanage. But I had to be careful; act low-key. Our family hated scandals. Scandals could ruin the good family name. And Brendan promised to bring one down on me if I didn’t quietly rescind my interest in being the CEO.
I saw her once and I knew. I knew I would give up everything for her but he didn’t know that yet. Mother was right. I was emotionless. It must be why he sent the video clip, the last nail on the coffin. I told him not to go with her. I fucking told him to leave my baby girl out of it.
“Brianna,” I say, “she was my breaking point.”
His confusion is so thick, hanging over us like a dark cloud I want to slice through. “Who is Brianna?”
Jumping to my feet, I answer, “Your niece.”
I start for my office. He doesn’t wait for an invitation to follow me. I locate the box on my shelf and dump it on the table, sending both of us into a mini coughing fit. A thin layer of dust coats the top of the files. I skim through them and bring out the thinnest file. It contains the first DNA result I took, among other things.
Joshua sits on the edge of my table, I slide a picture of her with a birthday cake to him. “This is Brianna.”
She just turned four. I couldn’t be there so I sent them money to organise a party. She was happy, her grin never wavered in the pictures she took with the cake. The one Joshua is examining is my favourite. She was smiling at the camera like she knew the picture would get to me. Uncomfortable at his prolonged staring, I snatch the picture from him. I have never shared it with anyone. It is mine alone.
Joshua clears his throat as I rearrange the file. “Is she dead?” If she was, we wouldn’t be having this conversation. I shake my head. “She looks like you. She looks like Brendan too.” She does. It’s why I don’t recommend having an identical twin brother. Sometimes I glimpse a striking feature of him in the girls. I offer him a tight smile. He gasps. “Oh shit.” He leaps to his feet. “Oh shit. Is she his daughter?”
If a woman has sex with identical twins within the same timeframe, there’s no way to tell the real father. Only the mother knows. In this case, the mother is dead. DNA is shit. So, the one billion dollar question.
Who is her father?
“I don’t know anymore,” I say and collapse to the chair. “I used to think she was mine.”
A father should know his child but the truth is I don’t remember. I don’t have any memory of that night I was in bed with Nicole. One night we were at a party—she didn’t like parties, I introduced her to them—the next morning, I woke up to her in bed with me. Stark naked. I took her virginity, so she said. It was her explanation for the red stain on the sheet. We never spoke again after that because I couldn’t get over that feeling of being violated. Did she spike my drink? How could an innocent virgin think of such?
Months later, she called to announce her pregnancy. I did anything a sane man would have done. Asked her to get an abortion and I never took alcohol again. She took the money. I never saw her again, never cared to find out. The evil she had done was enough. I was done with her. I was done with virgins too.
I bring out my phone to show him a recent picture of her in her wheelchair. “This is Brianna now. She is in her room. Upstairs.” Joshua swallows hard. He experiences everything at once. I let out a small laugh. I had time to process it but I am still stunned each time I glance at Brianna. “I didn’t think she would survive it. The doctors said she wouldn’t.”
He slides my phone back to me and drags the other chair to the front of the desk. I stare at my screensaver. I changed it to a picture with all three of my girls.
“Survive what?” I shrug. He will find out in due time. Now that I have started talking, I want to continue. “Isn’t there a way to find out? That’s what DNA tests are for, right?” he mutters. My head droops, I offer him a sadistic smile. Even the great DNA test can’t help me on this issue. So much for the great science. “You should get a DNA test.”
“If a woman has sex with identical twins, it doesn’t matter how many DNA tests you take. It doesn’t.”
Joshua opens and closes his mouth like a fish out of water, I prop my elbows on the desk and palm my head. I wait for that usual rush of anger at the thought of Nicole. Nothing happens. I am tired of everything. With the silence for company, I ransack the box. There’s one more thing. Maybe two more.
I pull out a sheet. A laminated sheet and turn it over. The camcorder too. The camcorder was sent weeks after Brendan found out about Brianna. It was the day that changed everything. I have always been an angry child but that day, nothing could have prepared me for the soul-consuming fury that took over me.
“You might want to watch this,” I say in a voice so detached, so foreign I am surprised it belongs to me. Joshua accepts the camcorder and turns it on.
Without looking, I know what will show up on the screen. But I still look when he turns it my way so both of us have a view of the small screen.
It is silent for a while and Joshua’s brows wrinkle. Nothing of interest shows at first. Then, Brendan covers the screen and Brianna joins him. I clutch the hem of my shirt, it still hurts to watch this. I am looking at myself. That’s how identical we are.
She jumps on him in excitement. He turns to the camera when she calls him Daddy and makes her wave at it, talking all about their planned road trip.
The idiot knew I would receive the video.
He wanted me to know that my daughter thought he was her father. She had seen me once, the first and last time I visited the orphanage. It was easy to mistake him as me. Only a few people could tell us apart and Brianna wasn’t among that few. I called him right after. I never beg but I did. I begged him to let her be.
No road trips with my daughter. Even if his intentions were genuine, I didn’t care. Leave her alone.
The video comes to an end. I flip the sheet. It’s a two line chat between me and him. I have never printed out a chat, maybe emails. But I printed this. I wanted something to look at each time I had second thoughts about sending him to hell. I sent that text so he could apologise, at least once.
Me: She slipped into a coma.
Him: Oops.
Joshua drops the sheet wordlessly. I laminated it so it could stand the test of time. “Just oops?” he asks.
He doesn’t want to believe his favourite brother could be this cruel. I didn’t want to believe it either. After the accident, the swelling in her brain, I hoped for a hint of remorse. He didn’t apologise. He blamed his car. The roads. The weather.
Everything but him. He should have listened to me.
“Just oops,” I answer.
The last message Brendan received from me while he was in his car was the same.
Oops.
A real shame I couldn’t witness his reaction or give him my infamous smirk. But I rest assured knowing he realised he was headed to his death before it happened. And he knew who was behind it. His twin.