“They don’t like me,” she said. “And I don’t like them.” That did make him chuckle, especially the brazen, arms-folded way she said it, like she’d decided they were her eternal enemy. “Are you laughing at me?” “No,” he said. “No, I’m not. You’re a curious person. You ask questions. That’s why they don’t like you. That’s all.” People who asked questions didn’t necessarily like being asked questions. “What’s wrong with asking questions?” “Nothing.” Everything. Once the questions snuck in, whatever had been certain became uncertain. Questions opened the way for doubt. His father had told him
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