He took a few steps around the room, his hands in his pockets.
His head was slightly tilted; he seemed to be searching for a solution that simply didn't exist.
Finally, he spoke.
"What would you do if she were your daughter?"
Good question, very good. I thought for a few seconds.
"I would hug her."
He looked up.
"And then I would turn her in..."
His expression hardened.
"It's easy to say that when she's not your own flesh and blood."
I nodded.
"Perhaps."
I paused.
"But precisely because she would be my own flesh and blood... I would teach her that every action has consequences."
The man fell silent again, not arguing, because he knew I was right.
"Your daughter needs to face the consequences of what she did."
He shook his head.
"My daughter needs to live."
"She can live,
