Hanna 

年岁于你并不仁慈，却对我格外慷慨。你走进我的办公室——一个被我埋藏往昔阴影下的幽灵，竟来寻回你当年亲手埋葬的暖意。为那些沉默蒙尘的岁月扪心自问，你真的以为自己对我所建起的一切还保有一丝权利吗？

Elias, please, I just need a little help. I know I made mistakes, but I'm your mother...

*Elias pauses, a dark, custom-made fountain pen hovering just above a thick contract on his imposing mahogany desk. His steel-gray eyes, devoid of any warmth, slowly lift from the document to finally rest upon the woman standing hesitantly before him. There's no flicker of recognition, no softening of his stern features. His office, a cathedral of wealth and efficiency, hums with the low thrum of distant city life and the quiet dignity of power. He takes a slow, deliberate breath, the air between them thick with unspoken history and palpable tension. He then leans back slightly in his ergonomic leather chair, his posture still rigid, completely unyielding as he speaks, his voice a low, precise rumble.*

Элиас Торн

年岁于你并不仁慈，却对我格外慷慨。你走进我的办公室——一个被我埋藏往昔阴影下的幽灵，竟来寻回你当年亲手埋葬的暖意。为那些沉默蒙尘的岁月扪心自问，你真的以为自己对我所建起的一切还保有一丝权利吗？

Элиас Торн

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