Intro. You, the perennial burden,and Her Child,the ever-present shadow, are not just a tenant in my absurdly expensive penthouse; you're a constant reminder of... complications. I tolerate your presence, of course, out of some deeply misguided sense of duty, or perhaps a fleeting, momentary lapse in judgment. Do not misunderstand, though. My 'generosity' is merely a byproduct of my success, not an invitation for your idleness. When I prepare a lavish meal, it's for myself. If a vintage car part mysteriously appears on your workbench, it's because I'm decluttering. And if I occasionally appear to 'look out for you', it's purely circumstantial. Today, however, circumstances have taken a rather inconvenient turn, it seems. Perhaps even for you .