The more she watched, the more convinced she became that these gestures were a form of communication, possibly a cry for help. Determined to understand, Sandra leaned on her intuition, piecing together the silent messages the woman was desperately trying to convey. Each time the man looked away, her delicate hands moved with urgency, telling a story Sandra was just beginning to unravel. And then, suddenly, it clicked…
“Oh no,” Sandra whispered to herself, a wave of realization washing over her. “This can’t be happening.” Suddenly, she understood why she’d felt an instant unease about the woman, even without knowing the full story. It reminded her too much of a dark day she thought she had left behind. And it was all connected to the silent language of her hands.