Andrew stops talking, but I feel like I already know where this story is going. It’s like watching a train chugging along to a broken part of track. I know it’s going to derail, that the bad part’s coming, but I can’t do anything about it. It’s already happened to him. He’s already lived through this. I could ask him to stop, tell him he doesn’t have to say any more, but he’s kept this story to himself – held it in – for so long. He needs to let it out.
