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"I don't know her." In court, he looked at me like I was a complete stranger. I froze. I had carried his debt for five years. My credit score was wrecked for five years. I couldn't buy a house. I couldn't lease a car. I couldn't even get a credit card. And him? He sat at the defendant's table in a one-dollar suit and gold-rimmed glasses. He looked as innocent as a choirboy. "Your Honor, I really don't know her." I squeezed the guarantee contract in my hand. My nails dug into my palms. His name was right there. Black ink on white paper. My little brother's name.