We Were Liars Season 1, Episode 7 Review: Everybody Knows That the Captain Lied

One thing I’ve truly appreciated about We Were Liars is that it refuses to shy away from tough conversations, especially around privilege and racism. Unlike most shows that might glance past these issues, this one stares them down. And in Episode 7, the stakes rise even higher. The Sinclair family’s battle isn’t just about legacy — it’s about identity, power, and breaking free.

Fairy tales make us believe that summer is when life changes — slow days, deep reflections, transformations. But on Beechwood Island, everything moves faster under the surface. Secrets boil. Tempers flare. And nothing stays the same — not even a Sinclair summer.

A Strange Trip Into Town

It’s the end of Summer 17, and like Cadence, I’m desperate to understand what the Liars are thinking. They’ve taken teenage angst and layered it with the uncomfortable weight of privilege, and it’s fascinating to watch unfold.

Cadence and Mirren share a quiet beach moment before Harris asks Cadence to join him in town. Something about it feels… off. He tells her to meet him at the bookstore, but when she presses for details, he finally admits: he’s seeing a doctor — an old friend. She knows something’s wrong, but Harris shuts her out.

What I admire about Cadence is that she doesn’t walk away. She doesn’t let silence win. She keeps fighting for her family — even when they push her away. It’s messy. It’s complicated. It’s real.

She’s more layered than I thought any of them could be.

Dinner: Where Love Goes to Die

The final family dinner isn’t a goodbye. It’s a minefield. All of these people are ready to go to war.

Every Sinclair walks in ready to strike. Every sentence is a weapon, every glance a war cry. It’s not about love — it’s about positioning. Looking good in Harris’s eyes. Staying in the will. It’s gross.

And honestly? The Sinclair sisters are exhausting. They shame each other like it’s a sport. If you thought your family was dysfunctional, buckle up. These sisters are the definition of toxic.

But here’s where things shift: the Liars aren’t playing that game anymore. They see through the performance. They see their mothers’ bitterness and Harris’s open racism. And they’re over it.

They are standing up for themselves.

The adults are selfish. Shallow. Misguided. But the Liars — they’re growing. They’re reckoning with the way they were raised. They’re questioning the rules they were told to live by. And most of all, they’re not afraid to push back.

Especially Cadence.

Calling Out the King

When Harris storms out, Cadence follows. She calls him out directly. She tells him what no one else will: that he’s racist. That his hatred for Gat and Ed is rooted in skin color, not character. His obsession with legacy is toxic.

And let me tell you, I stood up and clapped.

Emily Alyn Lind delivers this scene with quiet power. She doesn’t yell — she commands. It’s the moment we see that this girl and this actress have something remarkable ahead.

Then Harris falls. Hits his head. Bleeds. Blood was everywhere, coming from his skull.

And suddenly, no matter how horrible he’s been, he’s still her grandfather. Still human. Cadence screams for help — and I scream with her. Because no matter how broken a family is, watching someone fall apart like that is something I wouldn’t wish upon anyone.

The Helicopter Arrives, and So Does the Real Chaos

Penny — surprisingly calm — takes control. She delegates. She leads. She even tells Cadence, “Find the will. If it doesn’t favor us — burn it.” Classic Sinclair.

Bess and Carrie? Petty. Jealous. Fighting over who gets in the helicopter like it’s a seat at the throne. These sisters? A total disaster. Would not trade places.

When Bess packs Harris’s suitcase, Mirren joins her. And once again, Bess proves she’s the worst. Emotionally abusive, manipulative, always playing the victim. I usually love Candice King, but this character? I loathe. She’s cruel, especially to Mirren, who is just trying to connect.

Meanwhile, Johnny finds Carrie acting off and confronts her, tender, heartbreaking. He remembers what she was like when she was using. He wants her to succeed. He wants his mom to be okay. And Joseph Zada plays Johnny with a complexity that hits hard. When he puts the pills she was searching for on the table? I cried. Genuinely.

Where Is Harris?

Harris survives, but something’s wrong. We’re not told exactly what’s going on medically — just that he’s gone. Disappeared from his hospital bed.

Honestly? I hope he does some deep self-reflection wherever he is. But more than that, I think every single Sinclair sister needs intensive therapy. Like, inpatient.

An Island of Their Own

With the staff gone and the adults distracted, the Liars are alone. And strangely enough, they start cleaning up after dinner.

It’s a moment of peace. Of taking back control.

Gat shows up, and Cadence lights up. I love their connection, but I wish he hadn’t skipped his interview. No one should give up their future at 16 for love, especially not in a family like this.

As they clean, talk, and laugh, something shifts. Each of them begins to open up in a way we haven’t seen before. They’re vulnerable. Reflective. Real. It’s one of the first times I felt who they are beyond the Sinclair legacy.

The Will, the Fire, the Truth

In the quiet, they talk about the will. What Harris left to each of their mothers. Strings attached, conditions set. Harris’s control, reaching even from the grave.

Cadence burns the will.

But she doesn’t tell them what he left her.

Beechwood.

Instead, she talks about destruction. About starting over. About burning it all down.

And that’s when, in Summer 17, she remembers…

They already did.

Other Thoughts

Burning down a house? Yeah… not the best plan.
Gat deserves so much better than Harris’s hatred.
Harris at the doctor — fleeting humanity, but still not enough.
Cadence is emotionally scattered in Summer 16 and 17 — but who wouldn’t be?
The show’s portrayal of privilege is disturbingly accurate.
Gat giving up opportunities for love? Again: he’s 16. He deserves more.
The lemon taffy subplot? Too much. I’m good on lemons for life.
Mirren telling Cadence to leave Gat alone — why?

Final Thoughts

This episode was fire — literally and emotionally. It was the most honest the show has ever been about the brokenness inside the Sinclair legacy. And it gave space for the Liars to begin rewriting the story for themselves.

I’m rooting for them — not because they’re perfect, but because they’re finally willing to be honest.