Some would, for instance, forgo meat at meal time, in the hope of making a call or sending an SMS that would enable them to put more food on the table later.
The least I could do was actually tell my own story and validate theirs for them in a way, just as I was hoping someone much bigger than me will help validate my story.
Perhaps some tiny part of him hoped to be sensed, to be seen, to be stopped, but the Cloak was, as ever, impenetrable, perfect, and he reached the front doors easily.
Yet time and again innocent people have been shown to confess to crimes in the hope of a more lenient sentence—or simply to make the interrogation stop.