great-recipes.grastyup.com “My uncle once asked me, ‘Are you a virgin?’ when I was already 27 years old. From that moment, I started to be afraid of him. And a few days later, when he took me to a hotel outside the city, he leaned close to my ear by the pool and whispered, ‘After the pool, come up to my room…’”

“I was wrong.”

“Yes,” I said, wiping my tears. “You were.”

I gathered the documents and slipped them into my bag.

At the door, I turned back.

“One question. Did you bring me here because you wanted to tell me the truth, or because you were afraid someone would find out you knew it?”

Richard looked at me for a long time.

“Both,” he admitted.

It was the first completely honest answer he had given me all evening.

I left the hotel without saying goodbye.

Outside, the night air was cold. I sat in my car, locked the doors, and called my best friend to tell her where I was. Then I sent her photographs of the documents and asked her to keep copies somewhere safe.

For the first time that night, I felt a little less alone.

The next morning, I drove to the address Anna had given me.