He Defends My Brother’s Killer

My younger brother, Luke, committed suicide after being falsely accused of plagiarizing Layla's brother's music.

My own life was a living hell. I was a respected music critic, but now I was the sister of "the plagiarist."

My reputation was in tatters. My colleagues whispered behind my back, and my articles were dismissed as the ramblings of a biased, grieving relative.

The one person who had always stood by me was my husband, Julian, a successful music producer. We had been together since college, and he was my rock, my refuge in the storm. I thought he would believe me. But, he didn't.

But the real betrayal came the evening, just another day of being ridiculed online, I came home to find Julian on the phone. His voice was low and urgent, laced with a coldness I had never heard before.

"The case is closed, Layla. It’s over," he said. "The evidence has been submitted. No one will ever know that it was your brother who plagiarized Luke's music."

My blood ran cold. The phone call felt like a bucket of icy water dumped on my head. I stood frozen in the doorway, a paper bag full of groceries slipping from my numb fingers.

Julian's ever so confident voice echoed through my ears.

“The evidence against your brother was strong, darling,” Julian had said, his voice calm, as if he were discussing the weather. “He plagiarized a piece. It’s a fact. I know you loved him, but you must accept the truth.”

That was what he had told me when the news first burst out about my brother being a plagiarized musician.

I felt a surge of nausea. "No," I whispered, the word a fragile defense against his accusation. "No, he didn't. He couldn't have."

"I have proof, Claire. I saw it myself," he said, pulling a flash drive from his pocket. "He copied David's melody note for note. It's a shame, but it’s the truth."

I snatched the drive from his hand, my fingers shaking. "How did you get this?" I demanded, my voice raw with disbelief.

Julian sighed, running a hand through his hair. "David is a good friend, Claire. His family has been a huge support for my career. I couldn't let your brother ruin his reputation."

"So you helped him?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper. "You helped him frame my brother?"

Julian’s face hardened. "I did what I had to do. David is a rising star. Your brother… he was just a kid. I had to choose a side, and I chose the one that was right."

That night I had cried the whole night. The man I loved for five years did not believe my words, that my brother was innocent. My brother's desperate plead through the text messages only shattered my heart into million pieces.

"Claire, tell Brother-in-law it wasn't me!"

"Claire, you believe me, right?"

"Claire, why is brother-in-law supporting Declan over me?"

I tried my best convincing my husband that my brother was innocent. But, he turned dead ears to my request of helping him.

"Claire, sweetheart! You are blinded by your brother's love and can't see right through the wrong. But, I'm. Luke is guilty and he must be punished." He had said, his voice cold as he added, "Don't discuss about Luke to me anymore, alright?"

It was only now that I realized, it's not that he didn't believe me or my brother. In fact, he was the one who framed my brother.

His words were a brutal punch to the gut. The man I had loved and trusted for years had not only betrayed me but had actively participated in my brother’s destruction. He had not only stood by and watched as my family fell apart, but he had orchestrated the entire thing.

Just then my phone beeped. It was a text from an unknown number which read.

[I can help you get evidences that can prove your brother was innocent. But, in return, I want something from you.]

I know who this person was. The text was from Michael Beckham, the man Julian warned me to never contact.

I stared the text for a long while before I finally replied, [Alright. I'll do whatever you want. Just help me get the evidences.]