“For most of your life is not the same as the last year.”

He nodded, looking at the letters.

I had expected him to begin explaining quickly.

Instead, he seemed unable to choose a starting point.

That hesitation frightened me because it left room for more secrets.

“Start with what you know,” I said.

“Not what you think will make me feel better.”

He rubbed his palms together, then set them flat on the table.