Jerrick watched her walk away, her silhouette a shadow of anguish against the dimming light. Her hurtful words held no weight for him, for he recognized them as the cries of a heart fractured by distress. She had accused him of poisoning Hector, even questioning his mother about it. Grief—such a strange and overwhelming force—drives people to irrational actions.
Grief is a merciless tyrant, seizing hold of one's soul and warping perception. It whispers insidious lies, stoking the fires of guilt and doubt.
Jerrick knew this all too well; he had once believed his departed wife had caused the fire that took their son's life. The power of grief is relentless and consuming, staining the heart with an unmanageable darkness that resurfaces with every pang of memory.
