From the murmurs of the people gathered around, I pieced together the story: his own father was selling him to a sixty-year-old man to work as a cattle herder.
Pity seized me on the spot. I barked at the men until they backed off and pulled the boy behind me.
After a heated argument, Vivienne handed over all the money we'd budgeted for the trip to Caleb's father, freeing the boy. She promised to sponsor his education going forward.
I never expected that the day he graduated college, Caleb would show up in Riverport looking for Vivienne and plant himself at her side as her assistant.
He played the victim at every turn, acting meek and timid around me, as if I were the one bullying him.
More than once, Vivienne told me Caleb was easily frightened, that I shouldn't be so forceful when I spoke to him, that I needed to be gentler.
I assumed he was just someone who couldn't handle himself in polished company. It never occurred to me that every stumble, every flinch, was a carefully laid trap.
Then came my birthday. I offered him a glass of fruit wine, trying to be kind.
"Caleb, let me introduce you to some friends. You should hang out with them more."