Part 2Disowned in Prison, I Found New Family

After picking up Hugo, that familiar black sedan passed by the main entrance again. As it drove past me, I could hear their laughter and cheerful conversation through the open window.

The correctional officer I was familiar with, Jared Beckham, couldn't help but comment, "That new guy seems really close with his family.

"Last time his parents came to visit, they brought him clothes and even took us out for a meal. They just wanted to make sure we looked after him.

"By the way, I saw you talking with them for a while just now. Do you know them?"

"Yeah." I smiled. "I used to be their son too."

Jared's eyes widened.

He probably couldn't understand how two children from the same family could end up on such completely different paths—one a convicted felon, the other a correctional officer.

But a long time ago, I'd been the beloved son my parents cherished more than anything.

Every day after work, Dad's first stop was a bakery across town. He would wait in line just to bring home one of my favorite cakes. He always tucked the still-warm cake carefully inside his jacket, afraid it would get cold on the way home.

Every night, Mom would sit beside my bed and softly tell me stories about my favorite superhero until I drifted off to sleep. Her phone gallery was filled with pictures of me smiling, crying—every little moment of my childhood.

Whenever the three of us took pictures together, they would pull me into the middle and hold me close.

"Mikey, you will always be our favorite boy!" they'd say.

Even after Hugo was born, they never loved me any less.

But Hugo had been a handful from the time he was little. One day he'd get into a fight with another kid, and the next day he'd come home after getting beaten up himself.

Mom and Dad were constantly dealing with his latest mess while also worrying that I might feel neglected.

So whenever Hugo's troublemaking caused them to overlook me, they'd buy me a gift to make up for it.

That continued until Hugo turned seven years old.

One day, without any warning. He jumped from the second floor of his school.

Mom and Dad missed my parent-teacher meeting that day and didn't come home until very late.

When they finally returned, Mom's eyes were red from crying.

"Your brother's sick," she sobbed. "From now on, we're going to have to spend a lot more time looking after him. If we didn't, something terrible could happen to him one day.

"Mikey, you're his older brother. Can you understand why we have to do this?"

"Mikey, you're the big brother," Dad added, his voice hoarse. "From now on, you need to help us take care of Hugo."

I wanted to make things easier for them, so I nodded without hesitation.

"I'll take good care of him!"

I was too young back then to understand what bipolar disorder was, and I didn't understand the weight of my promise.

So, I never imagined that such an innocent promise would end up changing the course of my entire life.