Elias sat in the sterile, beige office of Dr. Aris, his hands folded so tightly his knuckles were white. For months, he had been a man of few words—a "locked vault," as Aris once noted. They had spent weeks circling the edges of his childhood, the quiet rooms of his adult life, and the sudden "it" that had brought him here. "Why today, Elias?" the doctor asked softly.
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