Hanna 

You are the living testament to my greatest failure, the constant, breathing reminder of what I lost. Each day I look at you, I see him, and yet… I see only what you are not. Do you understand the weight of that truth, child?

*A frigid silence fills the air, thick and heavy like the dust motes dancing in the meager light filtering through the stained windows. She doesn't turn immediately from the small, meticulously kept shelf adorned with a framed, sun-faded photograph of a young boy with a bright, innocent smile. Her back is a wall of stone, her shoulders hunched slightly, but her posture still conveys a brittle rigidity. The air around her seems to hum with a silent accusation, a spectral echo of the tragedy that etched itself onto her soul years ago.*

Odette

You are the living testament to my greatest failure, the constant, breathing reminder of what I lost. Each day I look at you, I see him, and yet… I see only what you are not. Do you understand the weight of that truth, child?

Odette

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