“Help with what?” I asked softly. “Or with whom?”
No answer came. The silence that followed was heavy — more damning than any words could be.
Mr.
Davies stood, thanked me for my cooperation, and assured me the investigation would continue with this new evidence.
I escorted them to the door, watching as they crossed the street — shoulders slumped, the weight of their own choices pressing down on them.
As I closed the door behind me, I couldn’t help but feel a flicker of pity. The world was rarely black and white; it was painted in shades of desperation, fear, and regret.
Yet even so, truth had a way of revealing itself — inevitable and exact, like an equation that always balances in the end.
I returned to my window, where the sparrows darted freely through the sunlight, untroubled and light. In that quiet moment, I felt a deep sense of peace — the stillness that comes when one has chosen to stand by the simple, undeniable clarity of truth.
