He was not merely afraid of being caught with another woman; men in his world survived that sort of thing all the time.

What I saw in his eyes was a deeper and more specific terror, and it took me a moment to name it.

He had just watched his twelve-year-old son calmly document, with a timestamp, in a room full of witnesses, the exact moment that the careful lie he had been building for two years finally collapsed in public.

Leo had not thrown a tantrum.

He had not screamed or wept or begged.