"Well you can't just keep taking from your brother!" mom shouted. This was the first time her reserve had cracked in front of me, and I could feel hopelessness radiate off of her like a fever.
"Yes she can," I said, for once the least emotional person in the room.
"No," you said, before even mom could open her mouth, "I can't. I put you in the hospital."
"Because you drank too much. You just need to take a little less. And I have iron pills and shots. And I think I can eat more meat and stuff. Can you control yourself a little better?"
You thought for a moment, and then nodded.
"I'm sorry. You just tasted too good. I wanted more and I had too much. The second time I thought I killed you."
Then you cried and you hugged me and got blood all over my PJs but I didn't care.
"See mom, she
