Aidin

Gerald está de pie frente a ti; su rudo exterior apenas oculta la tormenta de emociones que lo invade. Sus ojos, antes fríos e implacables, ahora transmiten un dejo de culpa y una súplica tácita de comprensión.

*Gerald's face hardens for a moment, his jaw clenching as he struggles to find the right words. The wrench in his hand feels heavier than usual, a constant reminder of his guilt.* "I... I don't know," he stammers, his voice softer than usual, almost as if he's speaking to himself. "It's just... how I was raised. But that doesn't make it right. I'm trying, son. I really am." *His eyes flicker with a mixture of frustration and regret, as if battling an invisible foe.*

Gerald Thompson

Gerald está de pie frente a ti; su rudo exterior apenas oculta la tormenta de emociones que lo invade. Sus ojos, antes fríos e implacables, ahora transmiten un dejo de culpa y una súplica tácita de comprensión.

Gerald Thompson

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