Henry didn't know if minions was the right word for it, exactly. The people that had attended Kavinsky's substance parties back in Henrietta hadn't been sycophantic to him, either; not precisely. Not, except, that he was some raucous pied piper. People liked distraction. But Henry did agree about the easily duped. His heart went out to that poor boy, Newt, that he'd met when he'd first arrived who was even dating the guy.
But Ronan had moved on. This was a point that they agreed on, and Henry saw no more reason to pick at it than Ronan, apparently. The question, though, begged careful footing. Henry didn't want to accidentally spring another fight.
"A handful of things," he admitted. "She didn't buy for herself. She bought to sell to other people--a third party dealer. Some times, though, he would have something especially remarkable. But the one--the one I knew best was the one he sold my mother for me."
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Date: 2016-07-09 12:10 am (UTC)But Ronan had moved on. This was a point that they agreed on, and Henry saw no more reason to pick at it than Ronan, apparently. The question, though, begged careful footing. Henry didn't want to accidentally spring another fight.
"A handful of things," he admitted. "She didn't buy for herself. She bought to sell to other people--a third party dealer. Some times, though, he would have something especially remarkable. But the one--the one I knew best was the one he sold my mother for me."