I think about Jino as I sit on the floor. We called him "J" because that's what he wanted. He was seventeen when my brother, Gael, took him and his sister, Mika, under his wing. The siblings used to be homeless and J did whatever he could to feed himself and his sister by stealing food wherever he could.
My brother taught J everything he needed to know to survive and be able to work for our family. So J was very thankful to my brother, owing his life and his sister's to him. If it weren't for Gael, the two would have already died on the streets. Whenever J was busy working for my brother, I was there to watch over Mika who was eight years old then and had cystic fibrosis.
