The Blood on Your Fingers

I remember going back up the steps and going back toward the front door. I went downstairs the longest walk of my life. My brother looked haggard like he hadn't slept for days. He said there were some things he needed that was all. Bill said he had lots to do so I should probably go sleep and not mind him. That sounded to me somehow like an instruction, a direction. And I spent an hour lying awake listening to the sounds of him going from room to room downstairs and upstairs until he left.