68: Thrill

I can't concentrate.

I'm here at work physically, but mentally I'm still in Devon's apartment, and he's recounting that horrible tale. I'm so distracted that I'm typing the words 'Aaron' and 'money' on the letter Damien wants me to type.

Aaron never sent us money, it was Devon all along. For nearly four years, Devon Tyler kept the roof over our heads, while my brother took the credit for it. Shamelessly, I should add. This whole story is inconceivable. We never talked to Devon at all. In fact, I had almost forgotten all about him. How could Aaron do this to us? Didn't he ever care?

Mom was so proud of him back in the day, even though she was worried about him. Still, she always trusted him. She never thought that he was doing something illegal. I remember her begging him during our occasional phone calls to leave Los Angeles and migrate to another city, but he always told her he couldn't. That's where the money was and he couldn't leave his job. He fooled her well. She'd be devastated