The bottle crumpled in his hand.
Cullen looked down at it with his fingers crushing all parts of the bottle as water dripped from his fingers onto the floor. The fridge door was still open behind him.
He had been thinking about it since day one of this disaster. He's been trying to determine where the problem originated. Running the memory back, frame by frame, the way he did with everything. He remembered Ruaan pouring the drink, setting it down in front of him with that perfect neutral expression while he took off his shirt.
He knew. He suddenly knew.
He had known since the second trip to the bathroom on the first day and he had been too busy dealing with the consequences to act on it. Ruaan was the one responsible for what happened to him.
He squeezed what was left of the bottle until the cap popped off.
"Ruaan," he said.
