The next morning I show up at ten on the dot at Linton’s office. The place is a small hole. Mice have bigger homes. Papers are everywhere. No organization whatsoever. He provides me with a cup of coffee and seven pages to fill out about my health, employment, education, past residences, and my closest relationships. Following the paperwork, which he reviews, he stares directly over the desk at me and says, “I want you to be honest with me, Tim.”
“I will give it my best.”
“Dustin tells me you have a dark secret.”
“Everyone has a dark secret.”
He waves a finger at me. “But yours is most interesting.”
I swallow saliva down the back of my throat. “It really isn’t.”
A pair of reading glasses sit on his desk: red, thin, plastic. He picks them and places them on the bridge of his nose. He c
