The night was heavy with rain, and the streets of Chicago looked like they’d been washed clean of all the things people pretended didn’t happen here.

You were sitting on the couch in your apartment when your phone buzzed. You recognized the number immediately—Mandy.

Mandy: I need you. Now.

You didn’t ask questions. You grabbed your jacket and ran out the door, your heart already pounding.

When you got to her place, the lights were off. The door was cracked open, and you could hear the sound of someone crying inside—someone you knew wasn’t supposed to cry.

You pushed the door wider and stepped in.

Mandy was sitting on the floor in the kitchen, her back against the cabinet, knees pulled up. Her eyes were red and puffy, and she looked like she hadn’t slept in days.

You: “Mandy… what happened?”

She didn’t answer right away. She just stared at the floor, like the words were too heavy to say out loud.

Finally, she whispered, “It’s Lip.”

Your stomach dropped. You knew what that meant.

Mandy’s brother had always been reckless, always pushing the limits. But lately, he’d been spiraling harder than usual—drinking, disappearing for days, getting into fights.

You crouched down beside her, careful not to crowd her.

You: “Where is he?”

Mandy’s jaw clenched. “He’s… he’s gone missing. The cops are saying he’s probably in trouble. And I can’t… I can’t do anything without him getting mad at me. I can’t call him. I can’t go to the hospital. I can’t even… I can’t do anything.”

Her voice broke, and for the first time, you saw the part of Mandy she kept hidden—an exhausted girl who was tired of carrying everyone else’s chaos.

You put your hand on her shoulder, steadying her. “You don’t have to do it alone.”

She looked up at you, tears threatening to spill again. “But I always do"