"I remember it being only 5 months ago," he started, grimacing at the vague memory, "when I first discovered my brother's body. He'd overdosed himself to death, in this very house," he gestured around with his free hand, his eyes on Xiajun, "and Eumeh's room used to be his. I couldn't think of any reason why he'd do something like that, not when he'd had so many big dreams. He talked of being an astronaut, an explorer."
The more Junjie talked, the more hysterical his tone got. Xiajun shifted nervously, as if watching a man descend into madness.
"I spent weeks, day and night trying to figure out why he did what he did." Junjie gulped, raking a shaky hand through his hair. "I loved him. He was my only family, the only one I truly cared for."
"What about your wife?" Xiajun asked, risking a question. "And your daughter? You never 'truly' cared about them?"