I looked him straight in the eye.
"No more lies," I said. "Tell me what you've been hiding."
"I've spent sixteen years trying to get it back."
He sat down slowly and didn't reach for a lie.
"Okay," he whispered. "You deserve the truth."
He didn't interrupt me. He simply started talking.
"My real name wasn't Nathan."
He told me about his mother, Elena, who died in a car accident when he was ten. After her death, his stepfather took control of everything she had left behind and sent him to live with distant relatives. They gave him their name — Nathan.
"Court hearings."
"The only thing my mother left me was a small house in Ohio," he said. "I've spent sixteen years trying to get it back."
I stared at him.
"Then what were all those business trips?"
"Court hearings. Meetings with Diane. Every trip was about the case."
"And that night?"
