"That's a very precise distinction."
"It's the accurate one." Something moved in his expression. "There's more to tell. But not in this office. Not while you're still deciding whether to sign the contract." He kept his eyes steady on mine. "Let me earn the conversation first."
I looked at him for a long time.
"All right," I said.
"You believe me."
"I believe you're telling me the precise truth and withholding the rest." I stood up. "I'll let you know which one wins."
I went back to my desk. Pulled up the anonymous text. Read it again.
He's been looking for you since before the baby. Since before the job interview. Since three years before either of those things.
Here was the thing about a partial truth: it worked better than a lie. The detail that made it feel real — the weight tha
