Up to my son's imagination
I was telling my son the story of the boy who cried wolf and ended it just at the point where no one came when he shouted the third time. "So, did he protect the sheep from the wolf all by himself?" he asked.
"The story doesn't say. It leaves that up to your imagination," I said.
After thinking for a moment, he said, "My imagination says that the wolf killed the boy, but then the main shepherd came and hit the wolf into space with his stick. That's what my imagination says."