The crowd's anger simmered like a boiling pot as I stepped forward, each step crunching in the frost-laden snow. Faces contorted with rage and pain stared back at me, their voices a cacophony of demands, accusations, and pleas. The words struck harder than any weapon.
I raised a hand, my voice steady but loud enough to carry over their cries. "Silence."
The crowd hesitated, their shouts faltering into murmurs as I looked out at them. These were my people, my responsibility. And I had failed them.
"I will not stand here and offer excuses," I began, my tone resolute. "Your pain, your anger—they are justified. Lives have been lost. Homes destroyed. Trust shattered. No words can erase that. I won't insult you by pretending they can."
A wave of murmurs rippled through the crowd, softer now, as my sincerity registered. I clenched my fists, grounding myself.
