No Alibi Needed in the Father's House

The phone is silent now, but your mind is writing the script for tomorrow. You are rehearsing the excuse, polishing the lie, building the wall before the question is even asked.

Tonight feels like a courtroom where you are both the accused and the defense attorney, terrified of the verdict. But the light does not need your performance.

It saw you when the screen lit up and you let it go dark. It knows the fear that made your hand freeze.

You do not have to explain your silence to the one who already hears the thunder in your chest. There is a peace that does not require a perfect alibi.

Stop practicing for a trial that isn't happening. The Father's house has many rooms, and there is one with your name on it where no explanations are required.

You are loved not for your answer, but for your presence.