Inside, Peter sat on the edge of his bed, gripping the flashlight tightly. His rational side scolded him for doubting Natalie, while his instincts whispered that something wasn’t right. He sighed heavily, setting the flashlight down and resolving to confront her in the morning.
By dawn, Peter’s decision was clear: one night was enough. He’d done a good deed, but letting the situation linger felt unwise. As he got ready, he mulled over how to phrase it gently. “Maybe I’ll say I wish I could help longer,” he thought, softening the edges of his resolve.