And for the first time in my life, I’m working on something important. I thought I could keep the two separate, but I can’t. And I can’t afford to get distracted. Not on this story.” “What’s it about?” “Your father.” You go still. “My . . . What about my father?” “There are . . . stories.” “Stories you heard from Goldie?” “Some were from Goldie, but not all. You told me yourself, there’s been talk for years. Word is your father ran a proper racket back in the twenties. Whisky out of Canada. Rum from Bimini. Had some pretty unsavory friends in those days too. The kind who come in handy when
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yes, so he's mad at her because he lives her but he has to report on her father... like it's her fault. even in his own chapter, he's the one being an asshole
