HELPED MY BROTHER HIDE A CRIME: AM I WRONG?

Am I wrong for covering up a murder done by my brother? For the sake of protecting the people involved, I’m going to use fake names and fake identities. I’m Joyce, a 55-year-old nurse, and this all revolves around my younger brother, Carl, who’s 48.

It all began one rainy night last month. Carl called me in a panic, his voice trembling, saying he needed my help immediately. When I arrived at his house, I was shocked to find a scene straight out of a nightmare. There, in his living room, was the lifeless body of his business partner, let’s just call him Mark.

Carl swore it was an accident—they had been arguing, things escalated, and in a moment of pure reflex, he pushed Mark, who then hit his head on the edge of the coffee table. He was dead by the time I got there, and Carl was a mess, unsure of what to do.

Against my better judgment, I helped him. We didn’t call the police. Instead, I used my medical knowledge to make it look like Mark had a drunken fall. We cleaned up and moved him to his apartment, setting things up to avoid any suspicion falling on Carl.

The guilt has been eating at me since that night. I’ve been a law-abiding citizen all my life, and here I was, helping cover up a death. Carl has tried to assure me that we did what was necessary to protect his future, reminding me that Mark’s aggressive nature had always been a problem. But the reality of our actions haunts me.

Since then, Carl has acted as if nothing happened. He’s been able to go about his daily routines, while I’m left feeling the weight of our secret. I keep thinking about Mark’s family, his friends… and the truth they deserve.

I know I should probably come forward with what really happened, but doing so would destroy my brother’s life as well as my own. I’m torn between my loyalty to my brother and my moral obligation to the truth.

Am I wrong for helping my brother in his hour of need, or should I have stood by the principles I’ve lived by all my life?