I have turned that over more than anything else, trying to understand how a mind arrives there, because I think if I can understand it, it will have less power to haunt me, and I have concluded that the answer is both simpler and more chilling than any dramatic explanation.

Julian did not steal during the weeks of Leo’s dying because he was a monster who wanted to twist the knife, some cackling villain savoring the cruelty of the timing.

I almost wish it had been that; a mind like that, at least, would still be recognizably human, still capable of feeling, even if the feeling was evil.

The truth is emptier than that, and colder.

Julian stole during those weeks because they were, from his point of view, simply the optimal time — the window during which my attention was most completely elsewhere, during which I would notice nothing, during which the paperwork could move unwatched.

He was not being cruel about the timing.