What I Know About Contradictions
Contradictions are not accidents. They are pressure points where truth collides with a fabricated story. A suspect who says they arrived at 9am, then later insists it was after 10. A colleague who claims to be terrified, yet recalls with laughter. These are not slips. They are signals. What I know about contradictions is this: one might be memory. Two could be coincidence. But three? That’s a pattern. And patterns matter. When words and actions don’t align, I don’t smooth them over. I lean in, because cracks in a story always lead to what’s underneath.