He smirked, leaning against the silver-toned couch. It faced the TV that we had been watching earlier. I disagreed with Andre’s words. I couldn’t if I tried. My heart wouldn’t follow what he preached, and I refused to entertain his strange stance.

“I don’t feel the same way.”

He wandered over to his glass desk, placing his palms on it briefly. I noted the outline of his ten fingers. Obviously, he was sweating, but he didn’t appear troubled at all. Was it ...