This was the second time Tino mentioned talking about not being able to pull the trigger or kill someone. It was time for Devin to tell me what had really happened with Barry and Margaret. When I was sure that Tino was gone, I sucked in a lungful of air and started my parade of questions.

"What is he talking about? Huh? What really happened between you two? You guys were friends so why all this talk about not being able to kill?"  I didn't give him a chance to respond. "Did he do something? Did you do something?"

Devin looked at me briefly, as if he was going to tell me everything. Then he looked away. 

"I'm not talking about this"

I grabbed the back of his hoodie when he attempted to walk away. Not this time. He inhaled deeply.

"Darius, I got a lot of shit on my mind I don't need this"

I let go of his clothes and walked so I could face him. 

"Really?" I was taken aback. "How could you say that when I've been going through the exact same shit?!"

"No you haven't!" he yelled. "You have no idea!"

"Yes, I do!" I chucked him then and the pain sprang through my left arm. He took a step back. He tried to go around me but I pushed him back again, ignoring the pain. This time, he didn't shift. 

Instead, he got right up in my face. His nose millimetres away from mine. "I have to protect you! Don't you get it?! It's my job to protect you!" The spit from his words landed on my cheek. His fuming eyes bore into mine. Still, I wasn't going to back down. 

"What do you mean?!"
He didn't answer. Devin turned away from me. I grabbed at his arm. 

"Protect me from what Devin?!"

He brushed me off, his tensed shoulders relaxed slightly. He took a few steps away from me, shaking his head. 

"Protect you..." he paused as he tucked the gun into his waist of his scuffed up jeans. "Darius, I can't do this right now."

He was so close to giving me the answers I wanted. I wasn't going to let it go. I shoved him from the back, harder than before and he stumbled slightly. 

"What the-" Devin started to say before I cut him off. 

"No! You and Dahlia are always treating me like I'm a kid! Like I can handle shit! I know something went down at Barry and Margaret"

He tensed and turned to face me. I sighed heavily. 

"Now it's time for you to come clean."

"Fine." He charged towards me, dominating the space around me but I held my chin up to him. I wasn't going to step down. 

"You wanna know what happened?!" He stood over me, puffing heated breaths onto my forehead, nostrils flared wider than the Berlington river. 

"It wasn't an accident" he whispered. I was shocked by the unexpected change in tone. 

"What? What wasn't an accident?" I asked. 

"The fire. Barry and Margaret. It wasn't an accident." Flashbacks of the fire from that night came rolling in. The smoke, the haze and how Devin went back inside, after Dahlia and I made it out. 

"What do you mean it wasn't an accident?"

"It was a plan we made to get out. It was Tino's plan mainly. He threw a firebomb into the house and the kitchen caught fire."

"Why did you do that? We could have just run away or something."

"Come on Darius, how many times were we going to run away? Barry had people watching us every day; to school and back."

He was right. We had tried to run away a few times but we always were found and brought back to the house. I couldn't understand people like Barry and Margaret. They didn't care so much about us but wanted us to live with them. Sure they fed us, gave us a bed, but it was no better than a homeless shelter, or a prison.

I used to think they kept us around for the government checks, but after we got out I always wondered why it felt more personal than all the previous foster homes. Every other place we'd lived didn't care one way or the other about us, but Barry and Margaret kept us under close supervision. The bars on the windows and grilled doors meant we couldn't leave.

Devin continued to tell me about the night it all happened. He and Tino had planned to light the house on fire, get me and Dahlia out and leave both of them to burn. Devin had let Tino in through the back door. 

Tino was supposed to block their room door. After we were out, I remember pleading with him not to go back in. I thought they would have gotten out somehow, but a part of me at that time hoped they didn't.

"I went in to go get Tino, to make sure he was out," Devin carried on. "Inside the room, there was fire all around us, smoke burning my lungs, I could barely breathe" he inhaled deeply.

"Tino had a face mask on. He'd tied up their arms and legs. They were on the floor and he aimed a gun at them. I told him we gotta go. He only shook his head, shoved the gun in my chest. 'No, let's go,' I remember saying. Then he took off the mask. He said, if you don't do it they'll just come back, man. End it now! For your family, your parents. At the time I didn't know what he meant. I remember seeing Barry's dreadful eyes as I aimed the gun at him then at Margaret who was crying. I almost did it." He looked down at his hands. They trembled slightly.

"I was thinking about how he burned you, forced you to drink. Forced Dahlia to... " he trailed off. "And every time I tried to fight back for us, he threatened to hurt you." He sniffed.

I don't think I've seen my brother cry since our parents' funeral, and even then it was nothing more than a few tears. He wiped at his eyes with the back of his hand. 

"I could've just shot them in the head and it would be over."

He slowly lifted his head. His eyes were watery but no tears fell. He took a seat on the concrete block behind him and I followed suit. I didn't know what to say at that moment. He cleared his throat before talking again. 

"But Dad, told me to protect you two, not kill. Bick and Paula didn't raise a killer."

He took another deep breath.

"So I gave Tino the gun and got out. After the house burned down, reports said that they didn't find any bodies and the people who used to watch our every move weren't following us anymore so I thought that we were safe you know, or as safe as we could be living in this hell hole city."

I finally spoke when the words finally came to me. "Devin, this isn't your fault."

He shook his head. But I wasn't going to let him beat himself up over this. "We would not have survived out here if it wasn't for you. Even when things were going to shit, you kept us grounded, safe, you found places for us to live, clothes. And you saved us from Barry and Margaret. You did." I reassured him as best as I could. 

"Yea," is all he said. We stayed quiet for a while. I reflected on all the things we'd gone through this past year, nothing was as horrific as this. But still, I felt like we would get through it. 

Devin's phone buzzed in his pocket. He took it out hesitantly. Every time we've gotten a message it was bad news. He looked at the screen, then at me. His eyes brightened just a little and there was a hint of a smile on his face.

"Dahlia's alive."