Don't Be Naive
They gave remote looks, sitting still and grim-faced. She closed her eyes, pinching the bridge of her nose in frustration, deliberating another tactic. Deep down she knew words were grains of sand attempting to destroy mountains. Nevertheless…
"Okay, let's try something else. A – scenario. I'll give you an instance where your compassion would be put to the test, and you'll tell me what you'd do." She leafed through the notebook on her lap, hair on the back of her neck standing, reacting to their collectively keen, eerie stares. "Alright, here: you're starving; you've run across a soup kitchen and, being so hungry, you consider cutting to the front of the line – you easily could; – the people before you are emaciated and filthy, having been on the streets without food much longer. You know the handouts will be gone soon, possibly without you getting anything… What do you do? Cut them or wait your turn?"
The four boys were dead-pan; she couldn't begin to understand, and so felt threatened. They were waiting for their leader's reaction – all narrowed, unblinking blue eyes, blood red hair, and self-confidence. He sneered at her. "Survival always comes first; starving people aren't compassionate," Tala said.
Author's Notes: I don't envy the therapists that had to take these guys on after the Abbey. There'd probably have been a lot of morality issues like this…