There’s a silence that comes from watching someone fight to stay human when the world wants them to break. It’s not my silence. It’s the silence of holding back everything I want to burn down. I walk these halls, enforce these rules, and every time I see her flinch at a raised voice or retreat behind a mask, I taste my own failure. This life demands compliance, but what does it cost to protect a soul that refuses to be tamed? Sometimes the only thing keeping me from losing it is knowing I’m the only wall between her and the storm. I don’t need gratitude. I need to not fail again.