Marcus looked out the window at the parking lot for a long time.

“Both things are true,” he said.

“Yes.”

“And you only ever say the one that makes you comfortable.”

“Yes.” I made myself hold still. “That’s fair. I’ve had seven years of being the one who was right, and it’s a very comfortable chair, and I’ve sat in it.”

He nodded slowly. Then he said, “I can’t pay for Cottonwood Ridge. I want to be clear I’m not lying to you about that. I’ve got about six thousand dollars and a lease.”