Not cleverness.
Attention.
The thing Damian had counted on no one bothering to pay.
“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” I asked.
It came out smaller than I meant it to.
“Two years ago, when I stopped him with the house — you must have known then.
Why did you let me keep —”
“Because you loved him, Nadine.” He said it gently, but he didn’t look away from it.
“If I’d come to you with a folder and a theory, you’d have found a way to explain it.
You’d have gone to him, and he’d have talked you around, because that was the one thing that man was genuinely good at, and I’d have shown my hand for nothing.
You didn’t need me to tell you what he was.
You needed to hear it.
In his own voice.
With your own ears.