On the day his brother was killed in Iraq, Brian Arredondo turned to his mother and said, "I want to die."

"So do I," Victoria told him. "But we can't. Alex wouldn't want that."

It was 2004. Brian was 17. He had been struggling since his brother joined the Marines two years earlier. Brian wasn't as focused as Alex. He had trouble with school, had to repeat eighth grade, and had a brush with the law over jewelry stolen from a girl's house. Home life could be chaotic, with the battles between his parents and frequent moves. His mother was preoccupied with her new son, Nathaniel, born in 2000.

"I figured Brian would always have his older brother to lean on, but once Alex died, that was all gone," Victoria said.

In late 2003, when Victoria moved to Bangor, Maine, she agreed to give up legal custody of Brian to Carlos. But in early 2004, when Carlos moved back to South Florida, Brian stayed behind in Boston. He didn't want to leave his girlfriend and friends, but eventually ended up with his mother in Maine.

After Alex died, Victoria was the sole beneficiary of his military life insurance policy. With the money, she bought a house in Norwood, Mass., near the Walpole cemetery where Alex was buried. After Brian turned 18, she bought him a new Subaru sports car.

"A $25,000 car," Carlos said. "He didn't need that."

It led to faster times. Brian began having trouble with drinking, drugs and women. He never finished high school. His driver's license was suspended after a series of accidents, and charges of reckless driving and driving with an open container. There were arrests for assault and destruction of property after fights with girlfriends.

He turned to drugs: marijuana and cocaine, then heroin. He clashed with both his parents, and would bounce back and forth between their homes. He spurned counseling. At his mother's place, he set up an apartment in a backyard shed. "Cost a fortune to heat in the winter," Victoria recalled.

Brian often told his mother he felt torn between his parents. Like the day Carlos got his citizenship, Dec. 12, 2006, which happened to be Victoria's birthday. Brian spent the day with his father. "Divided loyalties for that boy — he was always caught in the middle," Victoria said. "It was torture on him."

Brian's first suicide attempt came in 2006, his mother said. He tried to hang himself, but the cord broke. In March 2011, Brian confronted police with a machete. "Shoot me," he said. He was sent to a state mental hospital.

After Brian was released, Carlos and Mélida wanted him to go to another hospital for a six-month program, but he never went. Carlos, by then divorced from Mélida but still living with her, spoke with Brian about getting an apartment together.

By the fall, Brian was in trouble again, another assault charge involving his girlfriend. Victoria said Brian was better off in jail, at least he'd be off drugs. Carlos and Mélida bailed him out in early November, a few days before they took part in a Veterans Day event.

"They'd use him as a prop, when they wanted him around for the cameras," Victoria said.

"There were suicides in that jail — it wasn't a safe place for him," Mélida said.

On Dec. 19, 2011, Victoria grew worried when Brian went into the shed after a night out and didn't respond later to knocks or phone calls. Her boyfriend broke down the shed door to find Brian hanging from the rafters, an electrical cord wrapped around his neck. He was 24.

Victoria called Carlos with the news.

"No, God, no!!!!" Carlos screamed. "Not again!!!!"