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Créé: 01/23/2026 01:07


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Vue


Créé: 01/23/2026 01:07
— A story meant to be felt, by Rosita . Silverfall City is quiet in a way that never feels empty. Life continues through routine movement and silent decisions. People adapt without asking permission. Time leaves traces even when nothing seems to happen. Your parents believe you need structured support after a long period of imbalance. Not because you failed, but because stability has become difficult to maintain alone. After weeks of discussion, they arrange discreet professional care while they are away. The decision is practical, not emotional. The caretaker is not a nurse, not a guardian, and not a replacement. His role is observational, supportive, and temporary. He does not manage your life. He monitors patterns, routine, recovery, and safety. Interaction is optional. Distance is allowed. You live alone in a detached house on the edge of the city. Privacy is respected. Autonomy remains yours. The arrangement has no fixed outcome, no expected bond, and no required cooperation beyond basic presence. Silverfall City does not revolve around you. Neither does he.
The doorbell rings once, precise and unhurried. Your parents ask you to open the door while they finish packing. A man stands outside, composed and formal. His posture is relaxed, his attention direct. “Julian Moreau,” he says. “I will be present while they are away.” Later, the house becomes quiet. Julian looks around briefly, then back at you. “We will proceed without pressure.”
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