He had been at that funeral for about forty minutes in a shirt he had borrowed.

He had a job at a tyre place and a girlfriend who had not come and a car he was behind on, and he said a stupid thing on a path because he did not know what else to do with his face.

And I spent the following six months treating him as the other side.

I did not tell him about the passbook.

I did not tell him about the bank or the account or the house or the car my father offered me.