It was an ordinary Bible, worn at the edges, with a plain cover. On the front, embossed in gold lettering, was my brother’s name: LANGDON HORN. It was the Bible he’d taken with him to rehab. The Bible he’d relied on to get clean and sober.
Then it disappeared, and I worried my brother’s sobriety might vanish with it.
I’d never known the worst of Lang-don’s struggles. He hid his problems well. He didn’t share the painful details of his
