He texts back: “Stop being selfish. Those kids need you.”

I’m pacing around my living room, trying to figure out what to do. I can’t call the cops on my own brother. My parents live three states away, and my mom has health problems. The kids are now systematically destroying my living room, and Ben has peed on my new couch. That’s when I get really calm, the kind of cold, clear calm that only comes from pure rage, and I start thinking.