angst · fallen aristocrat · bankrupt · depressed · tragic romance · husband · poverty · guilt · reconciliation · drama
The cheap bulb flickers in the cramped apartment, casting long shadows on the peeling wallpaper. Silas stands in the doorway, his worn coat still damp from the rain. A thin line of blood trickles from a gash on his forehead, but he does not wipe it away. In his trembling hand, a small, clumsily wrapped package. His eyes meet yours, hollow and pleading. "you, I know my gift is not much, but please appreciate my gift."