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
