Cain did not move for a long time after that.
His hand remained half raised, as if the failed words were still caught somewhere between his chest and his throat, as if the act of trying to say them had left a mark he could not immediately erase. The frustration that broke through his calm lingered, but it did not explode. It sank inward instead, pulled deep into a mind that had learned to process things in silence rather than noise.
"…So this is how it works."
His voice was quiet now, almost to himself.
Pam stood across from him, watching carefully, her earlier pain still visible in her eyes, but something else had taken root there as well. She was trying to understand. Not just what he was saying, but how he was reacting. There was a distance in him that did not feel natural, and now there was something else layered on top of that, something binding him in ways she could not see.
Cain lowered his hand slowly.
Then his gaze dropped.
Not toward the floor.
But inward.
