She's like, well, you want me to leave him, right?

Yes.

Or then, what if he accidentally dies?

And that's when I realized that everything we were talking about was real.

He seemed like a sweet kid, soft-spoken, respectful when he came to see me, when he sat down to

tell me a story, a story about love, and a certain kind of obligation.

I felt that I was in a hole that I couldn't get myself out of.

I felt dread.

The story kept circling back to that woman, his girlfriend, Patti.

A woman old enough to be his mother.

A woman who had an almost mystical control over him.

A woman who needed her husband, dead.

If only she could find someone man enough to do it.

I felt that in order to make her happy, then that's what I'll do.

But could he?

Could he murder a man?

He had come to revere as a father figure.

I said, Patti, this is wrong.

This is wrong.

And she said what?

She would say, you're telling me you don't love me right now.

No, I'm not saying that.

...