Marlon and I stepped outside together, leaving the warmth of the house and the noise of the table behind us.
I walked beside him without saying much at first. I knew Marlon well enough by now to understand he didn't call people out for small talk. He had a reason for everything, and he'd get to it in his own time. So I kept my mouth shut and waited, already half-certain I knew where this was going.
"You met him again, didn't you," he said. Not really a question.
"I did," I nodded.
A few more steps passed in silence. The gravel crunched softly under our feet.
"Second time seeing him now," Marlon said, eyes forward. "What do you think?"
I let the question sit for a moment, turning it over carefully. Callighan wasn't the kind of person you summed up quickly, and I didn't want to say something I'd have to walk back later. I pulled up the memory of those meetings, the way he'd held himself, the things he'd said and, maybe more importantly, the things he hadn't done.
