I feel sad for him

I run a hand through my hair, sighing. “Honestly? I feel sad for him.”

“Sad?” Monica’s head whips toward me, her brows up.

“Yeah,” I say, quiet. “Trevor was dangerous, no question. But… I don’t know. Maybe he was just another broken person who didn’t know how to deal with his shit. He needed help, not a death sentence. And now he’ll never get that chance.”

Monica’s quiet for a beat, frowning. “You’re way too kind, you know that?”

I shrug, gaze dropping to my hands. “Maybe. I don’t know. I just… I have this feeling there’s more to it. Like he wasn’t himself in that moment. Like something made him snap.”

“What do you mean?”

I want to answer, but the words catch. I don’t know anything. Just stupid feelings. No proof. Nothing real.

“Forget it,” I mumble. “I’m just trying to make sense of something that doesn’t.”