During a mental self-defense lesson, Julian tried to instruct me on the best way to evade answering Terry’s invasive questions.
“He’ll goad you,” Julian said. “You just have to keep your head. If all else fails, just don’t say a word. He can’t twist your words if you don’t give him any to twist.”
As the lesson went on, I started to notice something was off with Julian. He didn’t smile as much as he had in the past. A line was often seen splitting his brow.
I stopped him near the end of the lesson. I couldn’t wait any more before asking, “Are you okay?”
He opened his mouth. Closed it. Blinked a few times. “What makes you ask?”
“You seem… different. Like something’s bothering you.”
He laughed a little, but it sounded nervous. “Can’t a guy have some nerves before a big operation? This e
