Patricia Swann is not much of an enigma. She’s moderately curious, moderately ambitious, moderately intelligent, and she’s playing far out of her field. She suspected my father already, and was all too ready to believe I’d join with her against him.
She was all too ready to spill what she knows of Veritas, and to believe I would join her.
But what she told me--makes me shudder. Memories I don’t have but should have. That sense I had that I knew something: I certainly did. But I still don’t remember; I barely remember the meetings in my home, Jason and myself and Oliver and Patricia? How can I not remember? And yet--it’s still out of reach.
And what she’s told me of Veritas--that which I don’t remember--it means my father has been lying, all this time, has known so much more than he indicated, all of this time. Did he know it was Clark from the beginning? He must have. He...
Fuck, I can’t wrap my mind around it. Why did he act now? What is it he thinks he’s able to gain, now--or what was threatened? Or is he doing this now, somehow because of me, because of Clark and I and how far we’ve come?
Patricia agreed to meet with him tonight, in exchange for my partnership and for the proof that my father is responsible for her father’s death. I feel no compulsion to keep any parts of this bargain.
And now, I must wait a few hours. Everything is in place.
Waiting is torture. A drink may speed time along.