ANN ARBOR, Mich. — Timothy Robinson sat on his grandmother’s couch, not looking well. Timothy, 11, was home from school with a stomachache, though it had always been difficult to tell if he was hurting. He was tough, and Denard — the shorter, younger brother — thought the world of him for that.

Denard could tell now, though, and when Timothy’s stomachache worsened, he was taken to a hospital. He died there that night. Denard, then 10, was told Timothy had internal bleeding. Timothy had, perhaps, fallen off his bike. Denard could not recall any other accident. But from then on, things would be different. He could tell from the lost expressions on his parents’ faces.

That is all Denard Robinson, the electric Michigan quarterback, knows about what happened to his brother. That is all he ever wanted to know. He never asked why or how.

The second and third youngest of seven children, Denard and Timothy had dreamed “just to make it, make it somehow” out of their hardscrabble neighborhood in Deerfield Beach, Fla., Robinson said. That way they could provide for their family. When Timothy died, Denard promised he would make it for both of them.