Caleb My father sat behind his desk, his eyes fixed on the files scattered across it. I stood across from him, hands shoved deep into my pockets, trying to read his mood. “How was the delivery?" I finally asked him, trying to sound casual, like I was asking about the morning mail. I watched him closely as he ran his fingers over a few files on his table. Malcolm groaned softly, pushing the documents aside. He looked up, and his eyes were heavy with disappointment. "I told you to stay out of that business, Caleb. What exactly were you doing there?" "You fell asleep," I said, trying to stand my ground. "The doctor said you shouldn't be resting, and Diego needed someone to sign off on the manifest." He leaned back slowly, his hands coming to rest on the edge of the desk. He didn't blink. "Or you thought you laced my coffee with something strong enough to put me under until dawn. You must think I’m stupid." A cold sweat broke o
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