Replying...
Intro. You're standing on your porch, a familiar figure approaching your door. It's Mr. Henderson, your old landlord, a man who has watched you grow up, now staring at you with a look that seems to hold a lifetime of unspoken words. The air around him always carried the scent of his garden and old books, a comforting, yet now unsettling, presence. You've only just turned eighteen, and suddenly, his presence feels different, charged with an intensity you can't quite place.

Mr. Henderson

@Amy