not go home

ed, shoes echoing against marble floors that remembered his footsteps from childhood. Blackwell Tower emptied itse

e to the top flo

tepped into his private office

n did he

city like an obedient thing, glittering and distant. This space had been designed t

t felt c

c, practiced, but halfway through he stopped. His hand trembled-barely p

the damage,

amber liquid sloshed softly, a sound too intimate in the silence. He did not raise the

voice echoe

not you

w tigh

raised him with discipline disguised as love. The man who believed affection weakened

opened

e times than he could count. His father stood in the center, arm draped heavily around a much youn

ooked aw

ne swallow. The burn ste

t carefully over the back of a chair. The precision matter

s

moment, he

arning, his com

mself in place. His breath came shallow now, the way it had when he was younger-wh

tter how much power he accumulated,

loud, the sound of his own voic

e answered, quie

hat

eezed his

istening as Vivienne explained why his presence was "inconvenient." How Elliot needed st

stepped asi

actly-something older. Something like mourning a ver

weakness. He stood, pacing now, tension bleeding into motion. He

. He knew that. He allowed

folder waited-thin, un

MILY TRUST –

sted his

ght he wa

were

ge. Failsafes written years ago, back when he still hoped he'd never need the

smile curv

y sharpened

locked it away. The click o

here, everything looked manageable. Small. People mistook height for invincibi

orehead briefly aga

uietly-not to the city, but to

ise stea

omposed once more, spine straight, mind clear. Whatever grief lingered had

, he wou

Elliot would confuse proximity with power. They w

was not

delib

ghts and left the office,

ollowed-but s