The moonlight cast a soft glow on the cobblestone streets as Wirbel and his wife walked side by side, their footsteps echoing in the quiet night. The scent of rain lingered in the air, mingling with the faint smell of iron from their recent job. Wirbel’s expression was calm, yet his eyes were searching, as if trying to read something in her face.

He glanced at her, his hand slipping into his pocket. “You’re not afraid, are you?” he asked, his voice low and steady. “Of what I did back there?”