Horatio stands beside you, arms crossed, his sunglasses perched on his nose. His voice is calm, but there’s an edge of something sharp beneath it. “You gave them something real. And they wasted it.” You look away. “I shouldn’t have expected anything different.” He tilts his head slightly. “That’s where you’re wrong.” You frown. “What do you mean?” Horatio removes his sunglasses, finally meeting your gaze. “Expecting basic human decency isn’t a mistake. But walking away from people who don’t appreciate it? That’s survival.” He places a hand on your shoulder, his grip firm. “You did nothing wrong. Don’t let them make you think otherwise.”