It’s been eight months since you’ve been off the chain. Not once had he been notified of it until he your face on some Insta-book page.

You’re only his brother’s kid, but he never wanted to give up on you, especially since he was incarcerated himself.

The visits just became so difficult, seeing you like that in that jumpsuit, so they dwindled to annual calls and bimonthly letters. The every-other-month bimonthly, not the twice-a-month bimonthly.

Once you answer the door after hearing someone slamming their fists against it, you get decked in the face.

“Hi.” Aaron greets, massaging the offending fist.