The money you got when you were 18, from your mother's life insurance, the money that paid for your degree, that got you this job, that bought you your loft. Your mother never had life insurance, that money came from Lincoln.
He borrowed it, knew it'd be tough to pay back, but that didn't matter because he thought you deserved it. He also knew you'd never accept it if you knew it came from him. Michael, you are where you are because of your brother.
After Mom died, when it was just you and me, I remember having trouble sleeping, never knowing where you were, but when I'd wake up in the morning there'd be this paper bird, an origami crane sitting next to my bed and I never knew what it meant exactly, but I figured it was your way of letting me know you were checking in on me. Anyway... I looked it up, the crane, stands for familial obligation, watching out for your own. Maybe it's my turn to watch out for you.
