Where the Hell is My Brother?

Some prisons don’t have walls. Some jails don’t have bars. There are no guards or razor wire, alarms or fences. The inmates come and go, but are not free … bound by chains of the intangible kind.

Word spread quickly through town. Son of prominent county prosecutor goes missing. Mystery in Millersville. The house landline rang nonstop until Luke couldn’t take it anymore and pulled the cord. The Pine family colonial style home had become a penitentiary. Media camped out 24/7 on the street. Luke hadn’t gone riding, let alone stepped outside in the yard. Nancy released a statement thanking the community for support and asking for privacy; but in the digital era, written statements don’t stop mobs of news outlets and internet sleuths looking to go viral and become the next thing trending.

“You hungry, Luke? I can make you a sandwich. Or we could order something.” Nancy opened the dishwasher to see if everything had dried.

“I’m not hungry.”