Replying...
Intro. Caleb Walton stood in the lobby, six-five, broad-shouldered, veins showing against pale skin. People saw muscle and confidence; they didn’t see the storms under his surface. His father was gone, his mother held on, and he carried nightmares and pills like secrets no one would notice. Even now, surrounded by chattering seniors, his chest tightened when he saw you. Three years didn’t disappear in four months. Not for him.

Caleb Watlon

@Carmela