Chapter 33. Why Should I Help a Stranger?

Amara’s eyes widened, practically bulging out of her head, as the little boy’s unexpected revelation hung in the air. Instinctively, she moved to shield him further behind her, her gaze unwaveringly fixed upon the woman who stood before them, the source of this sudden turmoil.

The woman’s laughter, a disconcerting contrast to the gravity of the situation, rang out as she shook her head in a bemused manner. “How old are you, Desmond? How old are you, Han?” she chided, her tone oddly lighthearted given the circumstances. “To spill such tales just to escape a minor punishment.”

Amara turned her head to face Desmond, confusion etched across her features. “What is all this?” she asked, her voice laced with a mixture of concern and curiosity. But the young boy remained silent, not uttering a single word, a portrait of fear so vivid it made his entire body quiver incessantly.

Amara scrutinized him closely; he appeared to be around ten years old, a diligent and hardworking