Page 460 of The Sinner: James

Meticulously, I go over my brother’s pictures, sifting through his most recent photos and the ones meant to help me learn a little more about his life.

Or make me curious about him.

Perhaps, intrigue me.

Whatever it is, it works.

I still have no clear feelings about this whole thing–-not good or bad––but I wrestle with curiosity. It’s impossible not to be curious since it feels as if I look at my own life.

I’m sure Tiago is different in many ways, but we look so much alike.

I study a snapshot of him as a young boy. And then another one as a teen. And then a picture that was taken at his prom with a beautiful girl on his arm.

His smile makes her melt.

And then a more recent picture of him. A social media post.

I locate his account online with more photographs. In his car, on the beach, at the gym––strenuously training himself.

Sometimes, he has a woman’s arms around his neck, her lips on his cheek, her eyes drinking him in.

And yet his stare is vacant. A small smile tilts his lips, but it’s not addressed to her. Or anyone. Or anything.

I know those smiles.

I close the app, check the time, and make a call.

My phone rings a couple of times before a man picks up at the other end of the line.

“I have a job for you,” I say.

“James?” he murmurs incredulously.

“Yes, man.”

“I’m glad to hear from you again. Is everything okay?”

“Everything’s fine. I need you to find someone for me.”

“Uh-huh... Man or woman?”

“A man. A family member.”

“Okay.”

I pause.

“It’s my brother,” I finally say.

“Your what?”

“You heard me right.”

“When did you get a brother?”

“Apparently, twenty-one years ago. It’s just now that I found out about him. Turns out he’s missing.”

“Circumstances of disappearance?” my bodyguard asks in a serious voice.

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