Later in the evening, after Michael has gone and the house had settled into its familiar quiet, i find myself reflecting on everything Elijah had said earlier. His words about Michael, about his struggles with vulnerability, has struck a chord with me. Elijah has seen a side of Michael that I have only glimpsed—one that is buried beneath years of control, power, and emotional distance.
I wonder how much Elijah really knows. How much he has witnessed working so closely with Michael. It is clear that he has been there through some of Michael's toughest times. Perhaps, in some way, Elijah is the key to unlocking parts of Michael that even I havent reached yet.
A soft knock on the door interrupts my thoughts, and i frown my face, glancing at the clock. It is late—too late for visitors. I hesitate before standing up and walking to the front door, my hand hovering over the doorknob.
