BEN
The ticking of the grandfather clock reverberates through my study like the incessant pounding in my skull. I wince as it punctuates the silence, each tick a reminder of time slipping through my fingers.
"Ben," Waverly's voice drifts in from the hallway, and I draw a deep breath before responding. "Yes, darling?"
"Can we talk about what I just told you?" Her voice is laced with concern, but there's a hint of steel beneath the softness. I can't help but admire her strength, even as my mind reels from the recent revelations about Harry and Madi. The guardrails of my forgotten life tremble under the weight of these new memories.
"Of course, Waverly." I manage to keep my tone steady, despite the storm raging within me. She enters the room, her posture conveying both grace and authority
