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frustrated look. “Dammit, Callie! I told you I never used that stuff! I’m clean; I’ve been clean for years! I’ve never had a drug habit, okay?”
    Callie nodded. She was probably being hopelessly naïve, but for some reason, really gut instinct alone, she believed him. This was a new situation. She wasn’t sure what to say, but she knew she wanted to help him. She only hoped she wouldn’t make the situation worse. She took a deep breath, “So, you gave him his first joint. Did you give him his last needle, too?”
    Bryan gaped at her in astonishment. He’d never expected this reaction. “What?” he asked, unsure he’d heard her properly. Her directness and honesty were traits he liked most about Callie, but in this situation, they seemed somehow inappropriate.
    Callie paused. Maybe she really should just leave this alone. What did she know about helping people deal with grief? However, Bryan was still staring at her expectantly, clearly waiting for some clarification of what she’d just said. She’d already started down this path, and she could see no way to stop now. “Or maybe you have the power of life and death. What do they do, issue you a magic wand instead of a Grammy these days?”
    Bryan was still speechless and could only shake his head.
    “I mean, that’s what you’re doing, right? Blaming yourself for Brodie’s death? Did you give him the needle, Bryan?” Callie asked insistently.
    “No, Callie, I already told you…” Bryan growled through clenched teeth.
    “Then why in God’s name are you sitting here blaming yourself?” Callie yelled.
    Bryan lowered his head; he really couldn’t formulate a response.
    Callie decided to try a gentler tack. “Look, Bryan, you’ve been beating yourself up for months, thinking you caused Brodie’s death, right?”
    Bryan raised his head, his eyes wet. “I could’ve stopped him, I know it.”
    Callie reflected on that for a moment. She didn’t really know that much about substance abuse and was painfully aware that she was hideously unqualified for the role she’d been thrust into.
    Callie shook her head, “Bryan, have you talked about this with anybody?”
    Bryan gave a harsh laugh. “I wondered when that was coming. Ever since I got old enough to talk, one person or another has suggested that I needed to ‘talk to someone.’ ” He mimicked the overly clinical voice of a school counselor. “Look, it’s not about my potty training or being locked in closets or seeing my mom screw strangers or any of the other bullshit from my childhood, okay?” he shouted. “It’s about my best friend being dead and me not doing a goddamn thing to stop it!” As if trying physically to regain control, he suddenly dropped his voice to a disconsolate whisper as he hunched his shoulders and lowered his head back down on his knees. “Callie, I don’t want to talk to ‘someone.’ I want to talk to you.”
    The brief glimpse into Bryan’s childhood had left Callie speechless. They’d really never talked about it before, but the picture she’d gotten wasn’t pretty. He seemed hell-bent on discussing Brodie with her, here and now. She couldn’t see any way out of this conversation and only hoped she wasn’t doing irreparable damage. She fell back on her best tool. “Let’s look at this logically, okay?”
    Bryan had to smile; Callie was nothing if not always logical and efficient.
    “You knew Brodie most of your life, right?”
    Bryan nodded.
    “You were like brothers, even closer than brothers, from what you’ve told me. Right?“
    Bryan nodded again.
    “So he knew he could come to you for anything, and you would help him no matter what.”
    Bryan hesitated, unsure of where this was going. “He knew he could come to me, but at the time, I was all wrapped up in this girl, and…”
    Callie interrupted, not really wanting to hear about Bryan’s love life. “Had you ever turned him down before?”
    “Of course not, he was my brother,” Bryan