But no more. The mess inside of my head needs to stay there. At least until I know it can’t get me into any trouble.
Slowly, I flip the page Timofey was looking at to the very next page. The one he thankfully didn’t see.
My handwriting fills the page from top to bottom. At first glance, it looks like some kind of crazy person’s manifesto. The frantic, sloppy writing of a person whose brain is bursting with bad ideas.
Life would be easier if I stopped trying to collect evidence against Timofey. I could do what he’s asked me to do, recommend he raise Benjamin, and then walk away. Except, I don’t think there is a way to walk away from this. From him…
I grab the corner of the page and start to rip. Maybe if I tear the page out, the feelings associated with it will disappear, too.
But I he
