We need to tell him

Della watched Michael pace the living room, his agitation growing with each stride. The sunlight, once a source of comfort, now seemed to cast long, ominous shadows across the room. She knew she was asking a lot of him, but she couldn't shake the feeling that time was running out, that Xavier was getting closer. He was supposed to be dead and she had to pinch herself to make sure she wasn’t in a nightmare.

“We need to tell him, Michael,” she reiterated, her voice firm despite the tremor in her hands. “We can’t keep living like this, waiting for the other shoe to drop....