When I was 17, my adopted sister told everyone I got her pregnant.

But the past has a way of finding cracks to slip through.

Three months passed when the letter arrived. A white envelope, with no return address. Inside there was a single sheet of paper.

Αппe Williams requests to join you at the Maple Ridge Correctional Facility.

I stared at it for a long time. Its name looked bad on the paper, as if it no longer belonged to my life. I threw it in the trash, then I took it out, then I threw it away again.

But the thought remained. For 10 years he had imagined what he would say to her if he ever saw her again. Perhaps the time had come to find out.

So a week later, I followed him to the prison. It was 2 hours away, in the middle of the road. The guard at the entrance missed my ID, let me in and led me to a gray visiting room that smelled of disinfectant and stale coffee.

I sat at a metal table, my hands flat on the surface. Around me, other people were whispering in low voices. Wives, children, parents, all visiting someone they still loved. I was not one of them.

Eпtoпces ella eпtró.

I barely recognized her. She was thinner, almost fragile. Pale skin, her hair pulled back tightly, her face tired and marked.

The girl who once cried in front of our family, hugging her belly and calling me a monster, now looked like a ghost.

Se septó freпste a mí, alraÿdo los ojos uupa a sola vez a￑tes de volver a abajo los hacia la mesa.

—Thank you for coming —he said in a low voice.

I didn’t reply.

She wrung her hands in her lap.

—You look different —he said after a moment—. Bigger.

“You look guilty,” I said.

His eyes immediately filled with tears.

—I deserve that.

“No,” I said calmly. “You deserve worse.”

He nodded slowly, with tears already forming.

—I know. And I’m sorry. For everything.

“For lying? For ruining my life? For all of that? Why?” I asked.

My voice came out low but firm.

—Why me?

He looked down, his voice trembling.

—Because you were sure to take the blame. You were quiet. You never fought with anyone. I knew everyone would believe me because you were… you know… the easy one, the good one. And I…

I leaned forward.

—You betrayed the country, and that’s why you destroyed my life? You betrayed the country, and that’s why you turned your own brother into a villain?

His shoulders trembled.

—I didn’t think it would go this far. I thought maybe you’d succeed and people would forget about it and I’d gain sympathy until I sorted something out.

—Sympathy? —I repeated—. Did you get that? Did you get a house full of people who loved you, protected you, threw parties for you, while I slept in a car behind a gas station?

She covered her eyes with her palms.

—I know. I know what I did. See…