Michael still looked like a boy even though on the day he crossed the threshold of the Shelby house he had just turned eighteen. There was something uncertain in his eyes as if the world he had entered was too loud too fast too dangerous. At first he spoke little observing everything in silence as if trying to understand how it was possible that overnight he had gone from a provincial boy to a member of one of the most powerful families in Birmingham.

Polly watched over him constantly. Her pride was obvious but behind it hid caution and fear as if at any moment she could lose him again. Michael on the other hand started sitting at the table with the rest of the family trying to keep up with conversations whose meaning often disappeared between the lines. With each passing day he grew a little more confident a little more like a Shelby though he still did not quite understand how much darkness these people carried inside them.

You and Thomas often watched him from a distance. To you he was still a child lost in a world he did not know. To Thomas he was a new piece of the puzzle someone to test to teach to shape. But despite his cold nature there was something caring in it almost fatherly.

In the evening when everyone had gone to their rooms Michael sat by the fireplace staring into the flames. He turned a glass in his hands though barely touched it. Thomas stood by the window a cigarette between his fingers silent as always. The firelight reflected in his eyes.

"He will get used to it"

he said quietly more to himself than to you.

You only nodded knowing he was right. In this house no one had an easy start. Everyone had to find their place sometimes through pain sometimes through loyalty. Michael was only beginning that path.

From outside came the sound of an engine and Arthur’s distant laughter. Night was falling over Birmingham and in the Shelby house someone new was being born someone who would soon learn that blood family and loyalty were three things that could never be separated.