You gesture worriedly at the waitress who's being publicly humiliated by Lawrence and his goons. Lawrence's got his foot on her like she's a football.

"She is gonna die if we don't help her," you tell him

Even saying that you feel a tad guilty for not intervening yourself. But then again you can't fight twenty people. And in his defense, neither can he.

In fact this whole situation makes you wonder exactly whose responsibility it is to help her. But your thoughts are cut off by a sudden flare of indignation.

"-don't you have any shame, man?"

The café owner stares at you blankly. He averts his eyes from you.

"She'll be fine." he grunts.

"N-no, she's not fine!" you interject.

"Never seen her with anything worse than a black eye." He says.

That does it.

You wheeze with disbelief so hard there's no air left in you. Even then you've got nothing left to say. And if you had anything left to say none of them would be helpful at this point.

You leave.