My wife read them to me first, and then she read them again to herself.”

That was the first time he ever brought her up.

I didn’t ask about her.

“I write down what I see,” he said.

“That way, when a man tells me something never happened, I’ve got the day and the hour.”

He snapped the rubber band back into place around the notebook.

I told myself that an old man with a habit wasn’t the same as a secret.

I ate my casserole and let the thought go.