I recently started reading a book called “Nineteen Minutes.” I honestly haven’t gotten far enough into it to really say much about it, but on the back it says, “A brilliantly told tale, one that dares to remind us that someone loved the killer, too.” I’m a nurse in a prison, and I see murderers and rapists every day who say they’re suicidal because they don’t want their parents to feel the burden of having them as a child. It’s hard to really explain and help them understand that most parents would still be absolutely devastated if their child committed suicide, even if they were a murderer. When you love someone that much, when they’re a part of you, it’s hard to destroy that hope that they’re either innocent or that they’ll change for the better one day. 

I honestly don’t know whether I’d turn my brother and/or child in or not. That’s one of those “you have to be there” situations, I think. You never know what you’ll think or feel until it happens. I’d like to believe that even if I didn’t have the guts to turn him/her in, I at least wouldn’t necessarily protect/hide him/her.