Billy told Saumya he’d found a story from years ago. He’d dust it down and make it sing.
Billy was lying. The story was real enough. It was about a Jewish diamond merchant who told his only daughter he’d disinherit her if she married a gentile.
Saumya: “Is it a story about love, money, or maybe some kind of father-daughter thing?” Billy said it was all three. He was lying.
He’ll not write the story because it’s real, and those years in the dust changed it so much that to tell it that way now would be to lie (again).