Revenge Forged in Prison: Chapter 233 - You Were Wrong to Steal

The apartment Caleb rented was only fifty square meters; even smaller than Deborah’s bedroom. After scanning the surroundings, Deborah said with a hint of distress, “Caleb, is this truly where you’re expecting me to stay? I suppose I can manage, but this place is just so…”

“Mrs. Quixall, if you’re not willing to stay, then please leave as soon as possible.”

This space was originally intended for him alone, so it was only natural that it felt cramped once others moved in. He had hesitated to take Deborah in, yet she still had the nerve to be choosy. If the house I rented isn’t good enough for her, she should just go back to the Quixall residence instead of staying here with me.

“Caleb, please don’t be upset. I won’t say another word,” Deborah said sheepishly.

After a quiet spell of five minutes, she suddenly let out a piercing scream. Caleb was utterly exasperated. “Now what?”

Pointing at the gauze on the floor, Deborah exclaimed, “Blood! There’s blood there!”

Caleb glanced over and spotted the discarded bandage he had changed earlier. His wounds had yet to fully heal, but Miriam continued pushing him into fights. While he had avoided any severe injuries in recent days, minor wounds had become a regular occurrence. That morning, his wound had reopened, forcing him to change the bandage. Once he had replaced it, he paid it no further mind. Unbeknownst to him, however, Deborah had noticed it.

Deborah was trembling all over. “Caleb, what on earth is going on? Are you hurt, or did something happen here earlier?”

The more she thought about it, the more frightened she became. If it weren’t for Caleb being by her side, she would have wanted to flee right then and there.

Caleb remained indifferent. “It’s nothing to worry about—just the bandage removed earlier.”

Deborah was visibly anxious. “So you’re really hurt! Let me see how bad it is!”

At first, Caleb had no intention of acknowledging her. However, her unwavering persistence left him with no choice. With reluctance, he lifted his shirt, exposing the numerous scars that marked his body.

Deborah gasped as she took in the full extent of his scars. There were even more than before. There were marks of whip lashes, scratches, and stab wounds, as well as signs of being hit by a blunt object.

Deborah was speechless, unable to utter a single word. She wasn’t sure about most of the scars, but the clear whip marks were familiar. She knew they were from her husband. Caleb had only been back for a few days when he stirred up the whole theft incident. Since she was at the hospital caring for Jesse when the incident occurred, she didn’t witness the ruthless demeanor of her husband while he was lashing out at Caleb. But she could imagine it.

Previously, a maid was found behaving inappropriately in the bathroom. When George discovered her, he dragged her into the living room and harshly disciplined her with a whip. Back then, the maid’s piercing screams filled the living room, but not a single person had the courage to speak up for her. After the incident, no one dared to harbor such audacious thoughts again. That moment continued to cast a shadow of unease. The maid’s anguished screams lingered in memory, impossible to erase.

Biting her lip, Deborah choked back her tears as she said, “You were wrong to steal, but your father was far too cruel!”

Caleb saw no point in revisiting the past. What was done could not be changed, and whatever they felt about him now was no longer his concern. Back then, she never held George accountable for what happened, nor did she utter a word of concern. Acting concerned now would only come across as disingenuous.

Caleb responded nonchalantly, “It’s not just that. What about the wound on my head? What do you have to say about it?”