Author's Note: So I know I haven't posted the last chapter to What is Right? but that's just because of the fact that I haven't finished it yet. I just had this idea in my head and I needed to get it done before I could really focus on ending the story. This started as a one-shot but then and idea and story formed while I was writing it, so right now I'm just testing the waters with it, see how people enjoy this little part. Once I get What is Right? done, this story will be the next one of my stories (maybe). I hope to make it angsty like Whispers and Screams, but not as dark, something like another Fosters fanfiction called Clarity (which is a great story, I encourage you to read it if you haven't, find it in my favorite stories). It will have some OCs and will take place in the future. So, please enjoy the little prologue to Words That Were Never Spoken.

Brandon,

I shouldn't be writing this to you. I shouldn't be bringing this up in a letter. I wish I could talk to you face to face about this but we both know that any conversation between us turns awkward. And that's not our faults. We just can't be friends. And if we can't be friends, I have no idea how we can be family.

I wish the reason I don't want to be near you were because I hate you but the truth is, I just don't want to be reminded of how much this pains me. But I can't ignore you, no matter where I go. I see you in the hallways at school, my math class in the second row, the beach where you sit and listen to music, even the sidewalk we used to take to get home.

I hear someone mention your name and it takes all I have not to just jump into the conversation, hear what's being said about you, when I should really be distancing myself as much as possible.

Being at home is the saddest part of the day. Everywhere I look, it's you, whether you're 8 years old or 14, or even 16 and at your moms' wedding, not to mention how any mention of the wedding reminds me of our first kiss.

Nighttime is the hardest. Everyone reconvenes for dinner and your chair always stays empty across from mine. Your old bedroom is only a few yards from the doorway of my room and I try not to stare at it, waiting for you to walk in and start playing that piano you slave over for hours and hours, making beautiful melodies that can only be yours. But you don't. Because my presence drove you to your father's, where I have never been and therefore don't remind you of me wherever you look.

Do you think of me as much as I do of you? You must because when I do catch your eye all I can see is your eyes boring into my soul and I have to remind myself why I'm hurting instead of happy.

You have this look you save just for me, a look that tells me you're trying, and to be honest, I love you even more for giving this a chance, for trying not to make this harder on both of us. But you know that saying that absence makes the heart grow fonder? Well that definitely applies to us.

But the absence isn't physical for us, for as I said before, you are everywhere. The absence is mental. In my heart, a place belongs to you but remains empty ever since we decided that being in love wasn't enough. I needed a family, but we both know we never thought of each other as family.

For those first two months I was here, we didn't know this would happen. We had it in our minds that this was only temporary, that our parts in each other's lives were close to being over. And now I wish I had used that time to be with you. I wish I could have told you how I was falling in love with you, gradually every day I spent in the house.

I had been holding onto the hope that when I did leave, you would want me as I wanted you. When your mom was in the hospital, I almost told you this. I was running towards you when Talya showed up and immediately I realized that I didn't live a life where I got lucky. That kind of life was reserved for kids that didn't lose their mom and dad in the same day in different ways.

I guess I should explain why I'm writing this letter. See, David dropped the bomb on me tonight. He told me he loved me and like the idiot I was, I said it back. I don't know, I guess I thought if I said, I would feel it. But I didn't, and I knew it was because I still love you, even though it's been 6 months since the adoption was finalized and you found Alyssa, the only girl that's made you smile since I broke your heart.

I wish it hadn't taken me 6 months to realize that not only was this not working, it never would, at least not for me. I wish I didn't have to wake up the next morning knowing you would still be my brother, knowing I had dragged us into a hole we could never get out of.

I don't ever plan on you reading this. I know if you did, it would only make things worse for the both of us, because you still hold onto the hope that we can be together, and for the sake of our family, we can't.

I admit that I am in love with you. I admit that in 20 years, when we will have families of our own, you will still be the one for me. Because you are so special to me and I can't forget you as far as I can throw you.

I almost hate myself for being in love with you, but how can I when it's neither of our faults. No one can help whom he or she falls in love with. And I can't help that I do love you.

But you have Alyssa, and I have David.

And we're too far past the point of no return.

I hope one day that our hearts will reconnect, but I fear that day will never come.

(I know you won't see this but I will still sign it because it just feels wrong not to end this letter.)

Yours truly (in many ways),

Callie Jacob-Foster