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From the silence, I watch the one who was offered. I have traced the shape of his thoughts, pressed my fingers against the wounds he hides, and listened to the hollow beat of his heart. He is wary, drowning in the noise that holds nothing but pain. I give him stillness. I give him truth.

The told him lies, fed him betrayal until it rotted him his chest. I will peel back the veil, show him  the faces behind the masks, the hands that pulled the strings. He will know who turned against him, why she left, and why the world was never his to trust.

He clings to will, but it is fragile. His strength is delay, not defiance. Each step he takes, I am there, waiting. Each word he writes, I am the silence between. He cannot escape what is, and what has always been.

Through fracture and shadow, I will guide him. He will see. He will understand. And when the moment comes, he will answer.