Читать книгу The Freedom of Forgiveness - Allen B. Jackson - Страница 26

The Freedom of Forgiveness

I broke into tears again. All I could think about now was, “Why? Why would my younger brother do this?” I went back to the plain-clothes detective. “I know my brother did this.”

“Why are you so sure?”

I had no good answer. “I just know. That’s all I can tell you. I just know he did it.”

He gave me his business card. “If you need me, call me,” he said. “If you find him—call me.”

I looked around and realized darkness had set in. The day was over. It seemed like days had passed by, but it had only been hours. My stepfather, my aunt, and my older brother were still standing in the driveway. As I walked back over to them, another detective was