I heard a car door slam in the driveway and paused, listening. The bathroom was without windows, but the walls were thin in our small house. I heard my brother Manny’s voice through the wall. I had no idea how he’d gotten home. The plan had been that I would pick him up from the bus station later that afternoon. Maybe we’d embrace. Maybe not. At the very least, he’d pat my back hard, affectionately, like brothers do. I’d tell him everything on the three-hour drive home.