They all had their tragedy, their stories of abandonment and pain and at long last refuge. Their actions were despicable at best, luring people in to their deaths, and there was no excuse for their actions. Noting could be said to rectify or justify the things they do, but that didn’t mean they didn’t have an excuse that they repeated to themselves to make them feel better. ‘It’s safer this way, for everyone.’ It resented through their minds every second nights like this rolled around. It was the cord they held on to, the slither of reconciliation that made them push on. There was that and the image they all knew far too well,
