WE DON'T NEED THE MONEY

"Sir, we don't need the money," the young man began, his voice breaking as he spoke. "I will return it, and you don't have to compensate us for my father's death. I only want you to help us find the person who asked for my father's life in exchange for money."

Beryl stood speechless, the man's raw desperation rendering him momentarily mute. The gravity of the situation was profound, and he could feel the weight of the man's plea pressing down on him. The air around them seemed to thicken with the intensity of the moment, every breath laden with unspoken sorrow.

The young man, still on his knees, continued with a trembling voice, "We know we can't get my father's life back. My mother and I don't need this money; we have been content with the way we live, but we want to find this person who instigated my father to sacrifice his life." The young man's words were drenched in anguish, each sentence a painful admission of their loss.