Wendy Knows
Wendy also knows, though, that if you want something, all you have to do is keep the other person talking. Only there’s a right way and a wrong way for that, too, right? She crosses her arms, keeps quiet and smiles like whatever I say will just confirm what she already knows. “I don’t know. I can’t get things proper.”
“We don’t have to solve everything right now.”
But we can’t solve anything, can we? We’re just writing stuff down. So what am I meant to say now? Tony’s dead, he doesn’t get to say anything or be anything. And I’m here, and that’s it. But I’m not going to say any of it, because what kind of story is that?