My brother Ethan’s best friend had always been part of the background of our house.

Roman Hale. Thirty-four. Tall, quiet, the kind of man who showed up to family barbecues with beer and left without needing attention. He and Ethan had been close since college. I had known him since I was nineteen and he was already a fully formed adult who called me “kid” and ruffled my hair like it was still allowed. I was twenty-four now. He still looked at me the same way—calm, slightly distant, as if I existed just outside the frame of his real life.

Until the night Ethan’s flight got cancelled.

They had planned...