For six years, he had dated girls. I thought, I had a chance, I could be his next and last.

It was Summer. I was in the British library. He was in the States. There was the thrill of being entrusted with his secret, of being amongst the first to know. There was the joy and relief in his voice: He had always liked boys.

I told him I was in his corner. I told him that boy better treat him right. I told him that he was family to me.

Then I hung up and cried. I was his sister in all but blood.