THE ART OF DECEPTION
My path was probably set early in life. I was a happy-go-lucky kid, but bored. After my father split when I was three, my mother worked as a waitress to support us. To see me then - an only child being raised by a mother who put in long, harried days on a sometimes-erratic schedule - would have been to see a youngster on his own almost all his waking hours. I was my own babysitter.
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