MY AUTISTIC BROTHER NEVER SPOKE—BUT THEN HE DID SOMETHING THAT LEFT ME IN TEARS

I always thought I understood silence. Growing up with Keane, you learn to read things most people miss—a flick of the eyes, a twitch in the jaw, the way he’d line up his pencils by color and size before homework. You learn patience too, or you learn to pretend. Because pretending is what got us through most of childhood. Keane was diagnosed when he was three. I was six. I don’t remember the moment they told us, but I remember…