Chapter 91

• Mr. Lincoln sat on a sofa in his living room bent forward, elbows on his knees and fingers clasped in front of his nose, thinking hard. He hadn't been himself since the trial with Charles. Although he hated to think about it, he just couldn't help feeling the sting all over.
• The shame seemed to renew every damn hour. It was expected to have dimmed and reduced but it was still there burning deep into his bones and bothering him. How could that jerk have managed it so quickly? It made him look like a fool. He had been caught in his lies within the first twenty minutes and couldn't defend himself. Tyson had made things even more embarrassing by going to fight Charles. Although he understood where his son's anger was coming from but the fact that Charles' bodyguard had handled him roughly stung hard.
• "Why's the whole mood this way?" Carlos asked as he slammed the jug of milk he was holding onto the dining table behind which he was about to sit. "We haven't lost yet! We're still going to get that son of a bitch and make him pay. You all don't have to be so gloomy." He said, fuming and Lincoln straightened up, falling back against the sofa.