He didn’t. He never did.

The air in the courtroom grew sharp and electrified.

Richard’s voice dropped to a guttural whisper. “You lied to me. For ten years, you lied to me about who you were.”

I looked at him, feeling a terrifying, absolute calm wash over me. I almost smiled. “No, Richard. I never lied. I just let you talk. You were always so eager to prove you were the smartest person in the room, you never bothered to ask the right questions.”