“People assume I’m the nice one. The family man. But I’m very good at letting people believe what I want them to.” I lean in and whisper, just loud enough to drown out the wind whipping through the rows of corn, bending the structure that barely stands behind us. “So believe me when I say this . . . I don’t like to be fucked with. I don’t want you or whatever you just did coming back around. So you will leave. And I will keep your secret. I never saw you. I don’t know you nor do I ever want to. Do I make myself clear?”
