CHAPTER FIFTEEN
JUSTIN

I couldn't stop thinking about the journey home, my mind swirling with the astonishing revelation. I had a brother, a brother named Justin, and yet he had passed away before I'd even had the chance to meet him. The weight of it all settled heavily on my chest, and I felt the tears begin to fall, each one slipping down my face like raindrops on a grey, melancholy afternoon.

When I arrived home, I stepped out of the cab, my legs unsteady as I made my way to the front door. I entered the house without a word, closing the door behind me with a soft click. The silence inside was almost oppressive, allowing the magnitude of everything that had transpired to wash over me. I took a deep breath, inhaling the stillness as I stood there for a moment, trying to absorb the enormity of it all. The house, so quiet and familiar, seemed to emphasise the emptiness I felt inside. It was as though the world had shifted beneath my feet, leaving me with nothing but the echo of my own thoughts.

I spent the entire afternoon searching for any scrap of information I could find about Justin. It was all so surreal, trying to piece together the life of someone I had never known. Justin had been born to Hank and Camille Voight. He had a twin sister who had been stillborn, a loss I couldn't even begin to imagine. As a teenager, Justin had found himself on the wrong side of the law, arrested and sent to prison after being charged with a DUI.

But after he was released, he seemed to turn his life around, becoming a model citizen. That was until something – or someone – drew him back into a dark world, a world that ultimately cost him his life. I read the details, each one more heartbreaking than the last. Justin had been found in the trunk of a car, wrapped in barbed wire, a gunshot wound to his head. He had died at Chicago Med. The tragedy didn't end there. He had left behind a wife, Olive, and a son – my nephew, Daniel.

A strange emptiness settled over me as I processed it all. This man, my brother, had led a life I would never understand fully, and now all I had were fragments. Fragments of a life lost, a family shattered, and a future that would never be.

I hadn't even realised how long I had been sitting at the table until I heard the front door creak open. The sound of little feet rushing inside followed immediately, and before I could even close my laptop, the kids came charging in.

"Hey, Mel!" Kenny exclaimed, offering me a high five, which I returned with a smile.

"How was school?" I asked, my voice light as I closed the laptop and turned to face him.

"Boring," Lee Henry replied, tossing his shoes and backpack haphazardly onto the floor with a dramatic sigh.

"Lee Henry," I said, my voice firm but not unkind, "there isn't a magic fairy that comes along to tidy up after you when your things are just lying about."

He paused, turning to look at me from the bottom of the stairs. His expression was one of mild defiance, but I could see him relenting as he slowly turned back to retrieve his scattered belongings. He trudged back downstairs, muttering under his breath.

"Thank you," I said as he finally put his shoes away and hung up his bag.

He grunted in reply, the sound more an acknowledgement than an actual response, and without another word, he trudged back up the stairs, presumably to escape into his own world.

I spent the rest of the afternoon with the kids, preparing dinner. The kitchen was filled with the comforting scent of the chilli simmering away when I heard the front door open once more.

"I'm home!" Christopher called, his voice warm and familiar.

The kids, as if on cue, dashed out of their room and flung themselves at their father, eager to greet him. He laughed, his arms wide, scooping them up before he made his way into the kitchen, the little ones trailing behind.

"Smells good in here," Christopher commented, his eyes lighting up as he walked over to the stove where I stood. Without missing a beat, he leaned in and kissed me on the cheek.

"How was your day?" he asked, his voice soft but full of genuine curiosity.

I glanced down at the pot of chilli, the stirring spoon in my hand suddenly feeling heavier.

"It can wait until after dinner," I replied, a small smile tugging at the corners of my lips, though I could feel the unease bubbling beneath the surface.

I could tell that Christopher noticed something was off. He didn't push, but his eyes lingered on me for a moment longer, his concern evident even without words. He gave a quiet nod, clearly respecting my wishes.

He walked over to the children, placing a kiss on each of their heads, his warmth and tenderness radiating from him. After a brief moment of fussing over them, he made his way to the table, sitting down with a flourish. The kids immediately clamoured around him, eager to draw and show him their latest doodles, their chatter filling the room.

The sight of him there, so involved and present with them, made my heart swell. He was such a wonderful father. It was in the small things—his patience, the way he encouraged them to be creative, and how he always made time for them, no matter how busy he was.

I stood there for a moment, watching them, my worries momentarily pushed aside. But I knew I couldn't avoid them for long.

After dinner, we helped the kids get ready for bed, their usual bedtime routine filling the house with the soft sounds of laughter and sleepy protests. Once they were settled and tucked in, Christopher and I finally had a moment to ourselves. We collapsed onto the couch, the television murmuring softly in the background, but neither of us really watching it.

I glanced at him, my thoughts still swirling. "Did you know about Justin... with your best friend's wife being a sergeant at the 21st District?" I asked, my voice hesitant. I already knew the answer, but the question had been on my mind all evening. What I didn't understand was why he hadn't told me.

Christopher paused, his gaze meeting mine for a moment before he sighed, a slight tension in his posture. "I did," he admitted, his voice steady but tinged with regret. "But I figured I wasn't the right person to tell you. He was your brother, and Voight's your dad. I thought it was his place to tell you, not mine."

I fell silent, my gaze drifting off into the distance, my thoughts lost in a sea of confusion. I wasn't angry with him, but the silence between us stretched on, thick with unspoken words.

Seeing my distant stare, Christopher shifted closer, his hand gently brushing against my cheek. His touch was warm, grounding. "I'm sorry that I didn't tell you," he said softly, his eyes full of sincerity.

His words cut through the fog in my mind, and I finally met his gaze. The depth of his apology, the quiet sincerity behind it, was enough to settle the unease I had been feeling. I wasn't sure why I had been so bothered by it in the first place, but somehow his honesty made everything feel a little clearer.

"It's okay," I replied, my voice just above a whisper. I leaned toward him, closing the space between us, and kissed him gently on the lips. The warmth of his kiss, the reassurance in the moment, washed away the lingering doubts I had. We didn't need more words; we just needed this.

End Of Chapter 15