If he admitted it, he would be caught.

My son had, without any training in it, stumbled onto the oldest principle of the law, the one he would spend his teenage years teaching himself out of library books: you do not have to prove a man guilty if you can simply ask him the one question he cannot answer honestly and still keep his story.

Chapter 19 — The Photo

“Leo, that’s enough!” Julian barked, his face going a dark, mottled red, his voice too loud now in the hush that had fallen over that corner of the room.