Just two of the Hinault family made it safely to the old tower; my heart sunk at their terrified reaction to the appearance of the healer Heloise Menoit, but it was not a surprise. The page I found in her notes just confirmed what I had already suspected.
Once more I find myself having to stand in judgement over another, and yet I am neither an elected official, nor myself morally irreproachable. The Shornhelm healer Heloise Menoit has dedicated her entire life to saving others. But how many lives saved balance the scales ‘gainst a solitary life taken?
It is not however just about what is, but what may be. Is it not my duty as one capable and so armed, to shield those incapable of protecting themselves; else should not my apathy condemn me as guilty as the transgressor? I was always taught that to sit silently when witness to evil, is a greater evil still.
As I ponder the fate of Heloise, I recall the words of Jowan Hinault, “She knocked on the door. She sounded concerned, said … she was there to help.”
Heloise Menoit is already dead.