[SHORT FLASHBACK]
Slater stood under a tree, far from the burial ceremony. Half of his face was hidden beneath the hood of his hoodie as he quietly observed the gathering crowd.
That day, it felt as if the world itself mourned a great loss. The clouds slowly turned gray, and soon, soft droplets of rain began to fall, quickly escalating into a heavy downpour.
Yet the air remained still. Silent.
Until a man's cry suddenly pierced the air. Slater couldn't see who it was through the circle of people surrounding him, but he could tell from their body language that they were trying to console the grieving man.
"I told you! I told you!" the cry rang out. "I told you!"
I told you.
Those were the only words that were heard, but the pain in them was undeniable—regret, grief, rage, all woven into each syllable.
Slater pressed his lips into a thin line, pulled his hood further down, and turned away.
I'm sorry, his heart screamed. It's wrong… but I didn't want to lose my family either.
