Caleb looked down at his stepmother. For twenty years, she had looked at him like he was dirt beneath her luxury shoes. For ten years, she had let him believe he was cursed, let him live in the isolation of a destroyed life, all so her dull-witted son could play at being a CEO.
He gently but firmly stepped back, pulling his leg away from her grasp. He didn’t yell. He didn’t call her names. His voice was as cold and quiet as the grave beside them.
“Arthur,” Caleb said, his eyes never leaving Victoria’s terrified, wrinkled face. “Have the guards escort them off the property. If either of them is seen within five miles of Vane Logistics by tomorrow morning, release the unredacted server logs to the Georgia District Attorney.”
“Caleb! You monster!” Julian roared, rushing forward, but the two massive security guards instantly pinned his arms behind his back, forcing him down the aisle toward the side exit. Victoria was dragged out behind him, her black veil tearing against the wooden pews, her screams of fury fading into the heavy, humid Atlanta afternoon until the doors banged shut.
The chapel became completely quiet again.
Caleb turned slowly to face Sarah. She was standing by the marble pillar, tears streaming down her cheeks, her shoulders shaking with the weight of a ten-year-old misunderstanding that had just been shattered in five minutes.
“Caleb…” she whispered, her voice breaking. “I… I didn’t know. I am so sorry. I should have listened to you. I should have stayed.”
Caleb walked across the stone floor, stopping inches from her. He reached out, his rough, worn fingers gently wiping a tear from her cheek. For the first time in ten years, the frozen weight inside his chest began to melt.
“We have a lot of time to make up for, Sarah,” he said softly.
He offered her his arm. She took it, her hand gripping his sleeve with an iron tightness, and together they walked out of the dark chapel into the brilliant, blinding Georgia sun, leaving the ghosts of the Vane family behind them in the dust.
