I wiped my face with a paper towel to remove the streaks and spots of foundation, mascara, and lipstick. I was ten years old, helping my brother, Victor, plant evergreen trees in our backyard alongside the tarnished wooden fence. Victor burrowed his shovel into the ground and grunted. His hands were caked in sweat and dirt. In that moment, everything he was doing seemed right, and I never could forget my brother. He dug five holes, tossing grass and dirt to the side. I dropped in the evergreen seeds, and then I covered it all with clumps of soil. Victor