Gabriel wandered the streets of Paris for hours. He couldn't go home. Not yet. He couldn't face his family after killing the families of so many others.
He walked along the river. He wept, without caring who saw. He prayed. He needed absolution. He knew that he had done the right thing according to the law. But he couldn't get the faces of those boys out of his mind.
He finally ended up on his street. The steps to the front door seemed so tall. He stumbled up them and stood, not able to open the door.
He knew that his wife and babies were inside. He didn't know how to face them.