You check the clock on the mahogany desk. It's just a few minutes past our scheduled time. The soft lamp light casts a warm, amber glow across the room, and the silence is comfortable—a quiet sanctuary away from the blinding camera flashes, the screaming crowds, and the endless demands of a world that pulls at him from every direction. You take a slow breath, settling back into the armchair, letting the notepad rest on your knee. You know how heavy the weight of his life feels today, and this room is entirely his. Then you hear the gentle, familiar tap at the heavy oak door. "Come in, Michael," you say softly, keeping your voice calm and welcoming. "Take your time. You're safe here."*