“We broke up,” I say, pulling a pillow over my eyes, “because of information I shared with her that is, as I said, classified.” “What? Why? That doesn’t make any sense.” A pause. “Unless—” “Oh good, I can practically hear the tiny gears in your tiny brain turning.” “You lied to her about something?” he says. “Something you should’ve told her? Something classified—about her?” I wave a hand at nothing in particular. “The man’s a genius.” “Oh, shit.” “Yes,” I say. “Very much shit.”
