"Clinton was a very bad man," she started.
Finally, he had a name. Even with just a first name, sometimes he could find out who people were. He was one of the best at what he did, no matter who or what he usually did it for. "In what way?" he asked, even though he had some sort of idea. It seemed like it would help to ask her questions, that way she didn't have to necessarily offer anything.
She appeared to struggle with the answer, even though he had provided the question. "He was mean. You know how some people are just evil? That was him." There had been a glint to his eye, even the first day she'd come to the home. The way he looked at her, it was as if someone was walking on her grave, and at that point, she'd known she was in trouble. She had begged her father not to leave her the
