The measure of a person shows in how he treats the ones who cannot strike back. The sorcerer sells a shortcut around reality. The adulterer betrays the vow he swore, the false witness poisons the word everyone must trust, and the strong man clips the wages of a laborer who has no leverage. Each act preys on someone weaker and bets that nothing is watching. Malice grows in the gap between the powerful and the defenseless because it believes itself unseen.
A witness stands closer than the guilty man imagines, and the account is kept whether he believes in it or not. The widow, the orphan, the stranger: how you treat them, when they can offer you nothing and demand nothing, is the clearest picture of who you are. To lose the sense that anything watches is to hand yourself over to your worst impulses. The reckoning arrives as the weight of what you did, coming back to find you.