I couldn’t quite figure out if Bryant was despicable or just pitiful. “So, you’re

worried that the truth about his mother’s death might set him off again?”

“Yeah.” Gary nodded, “The psychiatrist suggested we take it slow and wait

until Mr. Bryant’s feeling a bit better.”

“Okay.” My response was flat, devoid of any emotion.

I’d rather not deal with the Ferguson family’s drama anymore if it weren’t for

Timothy’s dying wish. But then, getting home and thinking about Bryant’s

plight stirred a faint sense of pity in me. That quickly evaporated, however, the

moment I remembered how he yelled at me in the hospital room. That scant

pity vanished without a trace.

I suddenly found myself loathing my inability to be more decisive, hating that I

couldn’t plan things better.

While I was lying on the couch, zoning out in sheer boredom, Christine

suddenly popped by.

the door. “Why didn’t you just use your fingerprint to

on something I shouldn’t see.” Christine sauntered

off her heels, and slipped into

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at me. “Why the

at its head today.”

laughing at

startled the snake instead.”

quite the poet today.” Christine unscrewed the

smirk, “Too bad I’m lost. Can you spell

I sighed,

behind Bryant’s mother’s death

shipped off.”

dice.” I shared the whole story with

stays, and now, we’ve got

juice. “But Bryant not trusting

curious.

he ever trusted

have gone on a rant about Margaret’s family tree

was

and saw her

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