I Speak Because He Couldn’t — A Letter for Freddy
My brother Freddy died with his truth still inside him.
I refuse to do the same.
He was the quiet one—the good one—praised for his gentleness, even as it buried him.
I now speak not just for myself, but for him.
Because silence can kill, and truth—costly as it may be—is the only breath I have left to offer.