It was the fall that surprised me most.

Helping is the one thing I always thought I was best at. Hearing thank you is one of the things I'd actually pay money for; in fact I do, because I never click that box on my tax forms that would get me paid back for donations. Although, come to think of it, I could have clicked that box and then used to money paid back to donate somewhere else. I'll have to look into that, if I ever have money again.

It started with a smile. I'm a sucker for a smile and he had a big one. Everything about him was clean, and pure, and honest, and I still have never yet seen him actually lose his temper. It's not hard to get along with a person like that, you know? Even now, when I see the cameras on him, and he's sitting in court, or I'm imagining what it must be like behind bars, I still see that smile, and I still see people giving him space, not even hurting him if they'd have wanted to.

I saw it the first time that man tried mugging us, and he'd squeezed my upper arm hard, smiling all the while, talking the mugger down and even getting an opportunity to hug him and pat him on the back.

It wasn't hard for me to promote him. I gave him everything. All of my trust, all of my good will, the rest of my bank account, my reputation, all of it. Still, when they ask me if I'd do things differently, I don't think I can.

He says it's all a misunderstanding. That he was covering for something else, someone else, sometimes he uses the word "they" with a capital. They. Who are They?

He never gives a straight answer. He just folds his soft hands in his laps, sometimes plucks at his cuff and then he'll look up and smile.

Everyone still loves him. Everyone finds it a misunderstanding.

I know that it's not.

I have the evidence in a briefcase I've already decided to burn. Even when I look at the photographs and photocopies and see the guilt, I find myself surprised that I still even have it.