at the label on his beer bottle.
“I’m not asking you to turn on her,” I said. “I’m asking you to tell me one thing. Did you know?”
Silence.
The fluorescent light buzzed overhead.
Finally, Robert finished his beer and placed the bottle down carefully.
“I signed what she told me to sign.”
Another pause.
“I didn’t know how much.”
Half-truth.
I heard it immediately.
His emphasis landed on how much.
Like a witness who had rehearsed only half an answer.
“And Grandpa?” I asked.
“Did you know about—”
“Don’t.”