THE BROTHERS MET. They were buzzing with rage, like hornets in a poked nest. Words spilled out.
“It can’t go on like this.”
“We’ve got to do something.”
“What? What can we do?”
“He’s lying. He didn’t dream any such thing.”
“But what if it’s true? That’s even worse.”
“It would all be perfect without him.”
“It would be better if he had never been born.”
Eyes darted to other eyes, then to the ground. It would be better if he were dead, they were all thinking.