I can see that Claire’s words got to Caleb.
He knows she isn’t lying. People can turn a blind eye to their close relative’s bad habits, but at the end of the day, they know what is right and wrong when an accusation is thrown about them.
But I can tell he's still fighting with himself.
Fighting the ugly, gut-twisting realization that the brother he’s been avenging—mourning—wasn’t the golden boy he painted him to be. He wants to reject it, to call Claire a liar, to call all of us liars, but how can he when Shantelle looks like she’s about to pass out?
She’s hyperventilating now, chest rising and falling too fast, her shoulders trembling like she’s unraveling from the inside out.
“Shantelle,” Claire says, concerned. She turns back to Caleb. “Do something!”
Caleb hesitates, his fingers
