I thought I was helping him. That's what I told myself.
I asked about his mother, his childhood, and his trauma. He responded in riddles. But I understood those riddles. Because I had them too.
But then something happened. The first time was subtle. He mentioned details I hadn't asked about. Places I didn't remember going. A name I'd never heard before.
"Who's Mara?" I asked.
He just looked at me. Confused. "You told me about her."
No. I didn't.
I became convinced he had an accomplice.