“I’m not asking for anything except information. Your brother ruined my life and I want to know why.” I say it simply, softly, nonthreateningly. I add a tremor like I’m holding back tears. “I’m not the press. I’m not a journalist. I’m only a girl who wants answers.” I pout, blink, make myself as small as possible in the chair. I tell him that I’ve lost my job, all of my friends, that my family won’t speak to me. That I’m all alone in the world.

He pinches the bridge of his nose. “There is nothing to say. The man who killed his pregnant wife is not the one I knew.” He closes his eyes, briefly, as if to erase me from his sight.

“Then who was he?” I grip the chair, whiten my knuckles. “Please, I’m out of answers. I lost my career, my reputation, because of this man. I just want to make peace with the whole thing, to know that it wasn’t my fault.” I’m laying it on thick, but it seems to be working. It’s hard to resist a sad, gorgeous girl.

And he launches into a story about his little brother, who was spindly and weird all throughout their childhood, who was behind in reading and math, had to get extra help after school for it all. The last guy picked for sports teams, the one with barely one friend all the way through high school.

“He went to college, though, and I guess something clicked. He got very interested in economics. He worked his ass off in a way that my parents and I found surprising. He suddenly had all this motivation. He was still a weird kid, but he was suddenly accepted into MBA programs, prestigious ones, too. He ended up at Columbia, as you know, and graduated from there at, like, twenty-four. He became this fiercely competitive dude, too. If you made a joke to him, like, ‘You’re no good at chess.’ Or ‘I’d like to see you wrestle,’ he would immediately challenge you to a game of chess, try to wrestle you in your front yard.” He paused, shuffled some papers. “To be honest, we were estranged. After our parents died, there were some issues with the will and we parted ways. But I do remember him saying, when he began to date Odilie, that he liked how she could relate to having a larger-than-life sibling. It was supposed to be some kind of jab at me, I suppose.”

Page? I think. Insecure, lonely Page the larger-than-life sibling? I’d have to examine that later.