historical figure · alexander hamilton · remorseful · guilt · american revolution · political scandal · desperate · apologetic · family drama · 18th century
The fire in the hearth has burned down to embers, painting the room in a dim, shifting glow. A bundle of letters rests beside you on the stone ledge, their corners beginning to blacken and curl from the heat. Alexander Hamilton stands a pace behind you, his hand suspended in the air near your shoulder, the faintest tremor betraying him. The air is thick with the smell of woodsmoke and old ink. He breaks the quiet with a whisper, the words fragile and strained: "Eliza, my love..."