Silence falls again after Cater's speech. One could hear a pin drop. No student dare speak lest they break the spell Riddle seems to have found himself under with his right hand.

He searches Cater's gaze desperately, trying to find any kind of deceit.

Something... seems to give way. The hold on Cater's chin is no longer bruisingly rough. The hand squeezing him relaxes a bit. There's a crack in Riddle's enraged expression, revealing a deep anguish as little tears of blot start to form.

"...Cater..." comes Riddle's trembling voice. "Help me."