Page 49 of Shattering

His hazel eyes flickered over her face, taking in the dark circles, the rawness, the exhaustion.

A flicker of regret passed through his expression.

Cadi didn't hesitate—she stepped forward and threw herself into his arms.

Her body trembled as she gripped the back of his jacket, pressing her face into his shoulder, seeking something—anything—that felt solid, that felt real.

"He has the results," she whispered, her voice breaking. "Please tell him... tell him the truth."

Callum just held her for a second before looking up.

Over her head, his hazel eyes met Gray's.

Callum's jaw was clenched, his expression caught between dread and something else. Something like envy.

For a long moment, no one spoke.

Then, slowly, Callum nodded.

"Maybe we should sit down for this."

The fire crackled softly, casting long shadows against the stone walls.

Cadi sat on the sofa facing Callum, her hands clenched tightly in her lap, her shoulders stiff.

Gray stood near the fireplace, arms crossed, his fingers digging into his biceps, as if physically holding himself together.

Callum exhaled, running a hand through his already dishevelled hair.

He looked at Cadi first.

"I haven't been completely truthful with you, and I regret that. I am so very sorry, Cadi."

Gray stiffened.

Callum's fingers tapped restlessly against his knee, his throat working as he swallowed.

"The Callahan family," Callum began, his voice quieter now, as if drawing them back into a past he had never lived but knew by heart, "was one of the most powerful families in Derry. Their influence stretched far beyond business and politics, into the shadows of the conflict itself. Arms deals. They had money, connections, and secrets. They lived on an estate outside the city, with summer homes across Ireland and the mainland"

Gray's expression morphed from impatience to one of confusion. This was not what he was expecting.

Gray's frown deepened, his arms still crossed tightly over his chest.

"I know all this." His voice was sharp, clipped. "None of this is news to me. If you're here to tell me that my so-called family had power, or that they had their hands in dirty business, don't bother. I lived it."

Callum hesitated.

His next words were slower, more deliberate.

"You know some of it, Gray. But not all of it."

Something in his tone—something careful—made Gray's spine straighten.

The room felt smaller.

"David Callahan was the youngest of three sons. He was your father."

Gray let out a humourless laugh, though there was no amusement in it.

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