I cleared some nothingness in my throat and spoke weakly. “Vincent is quite stubborn. If he has vowed to wage a war, there is no stopping him.
That was shorter than I had even intended. Even he was not satisfied. It was like I opened a debate and gave only the title.
“Tell me more,” he asked.
I took a long moment deliberating whether to tell him the truth or lie to him just to soothe him. After a long moment, I made up my mind—half truth and half lie.
“The truth is,” I began, my thoughts wandering off to those little times Vincent spared for me, “I really did not know your son so well. He always spared me the last drop of his time and never opened up to me about so many things.”
That was the half-truth, because the truth was, I always had to beg him to spare me some time. Most of the
