But even as he shouted, something caught his eye. My arm slipped out from under the white sheet, revealing the bracelet on my wrist—his bracelet. The custom-made prayer beads I had crafted just for him. The same beads that had broken moments ago.
Reality crashed down on him like a tidal wave. The evidence piled up, piece by piece, shattering the carefully constructed lies he had told himself. The color drained from his face as he staggered back, eyes wide, his body barely able to hold the weight of his guilt.
