Peter’s mind raced, the weight of what he had just witnessed pressing down on him. His thoughts swirled—her desperate pleas, the children’s innocent faces, the trust he’d extended. “Was it all a lie?” he muttered, his hands gripping the edge of the curtain.
A wave of anger surged, but beneath it lay a gnawing sense of regret. He had ignored his gut, dismissed the warnings, and now this. Yet, mixed with the fury was a deep sadness. He had wanted to believe in her, to do something good. But now, he felt foolish.
For several minutes, Peter remained by the window, staring into the empty street. The house was silent, but his mind buzzed with noise—questions, anger, and a crushing sense of betrayal. Finally, he turned away, his body heavy with the weight of the night’s events.