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His frame came into view. “I don’t have enough evidence,” he replied, walking past me and stopping to stand at the window showing the bleak morning beyond. “Besides, I like to find out people's motives first.” “Why do motives matter?” I asked, genuinely curious. “Sometimes they justify the outcome.” “They always do for the people committing the act,” I reasoned. “Yes,” he mused, “but society doesn’t accept all of those reasons.” “And you speak for society? As a whole?” His shoulders seemed to tense a bit. “No. I speak only for me and my brothers.” “Cryptic,” I responded dryly, closing the book in my lap. “Not really,” he told me. “We try to uphold justice in a way that works for us, makes sense to us. Nothing is ever entirely good or evil. But we try to help others do good.” “Exc