Scott's vision was an absolute mess.
In the gloom, a face began to take shape…
A woman's face.
Her features were sharp, unambiguous, and burned into his memory like a wound that refused to heal. Her icy, unforgiving eyes locked onto his, and he couldn't look away.
Her hands were closed around his throat with so much hatred it was impossible to breathe.
"Mom…"
His voice strained with suffering.
"Please… don' t…"
Her grip tightened.
The pressure was suffocating.
She was squeezing the last breath from his lungs.
He clawed at her arms, but they felt immovable, like steel.
"Why didn't you just die──?! I could be enjoying a luxurious life with your father if you just died!"
"I' II do better…"
He rasped as tears spilled down his cheeks.
"Just… stop. Please."
"You'll do better?"
The woman laughed.
"Maybe if you died seven years ago! Why did you survive?! Are you some sort of disgusting cockroach?!"
"I…"
Suddenly, the image shattered.
