“Maybe he’ll want to see my structural model from the school science fair,” Lucas said.

He carried the heavy textbook to the front counter and reached into his coat pocket for a small leather coin purse.

“I have fifteen dollars from my weekend yard work in Colorado Springs,” he told the young clerk behind the counter.

I stepped forward and tapped my credit card on the payment terminal before the clerk could open the register drawer.

If Ethan had a single genuine bone in his body, thirty seconds with Lucas’s thoughtful, curious mind would undo eight years of defense company pitches and self-serving stories.