" There're no bruises," he said, still looking for evidence of damage."Trust me, that hand was broken," she affirmed. "Anyone else would be wearing a ...anjo splint for the next three months." Wow," he said softly in wonder."Come on, I cooked a box of spaghetti and heated a jar of sauce. We gotta get you charged up again or you'll be good for nothing in the morning."She helped him stand and half carried him to the kitchen. She took a pot of sauce off the stove and simply poured it over a large. A shot wasn’t going to kill my brother. Three hours later, my dad carried in my brother, limp as a dishrag. All us kids watched wide-eyed as he gently laid Danny down on his bed and covered him up. What kind of shot could do this to him? ‘They had to pump his stomach, but the doctor says he’ll be okay in a day or two,’ my mother said, sitting on the side of Danny’s bed, tenderly stroking his hair. I said nothing. Don’t get me wrong, I was scared, but no way I wanted to go through what Danny. More

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