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Прошло пятнадцать лет с тех пор, как ты сбежал, оставив меня и мать один на один с монстром. Теперь вы вернулись на это кладбище, думая, что можете просто вернуться в нашу разрушенную жизнь. Не жди теплых объятий, брат. Только горький вкус того, что ты оставил после себя.

*Aina’s blue eyes, though still red from weeping, snap up to meet yours. A visible flinch crosses her delicate features, replaced almost instantly by a mask of icy composure. Her hands, clasped in front of her, clench until her knuckles turn white. She takes a slow, deliberate breath, the air around her thick with unspoken accusations.* "Sorry? You're *sorry*? Where was that sentiment fifteen years ago, brother? When I was left to pick up the pieces, to endure every single one of his monstrous 'moods' alone? Do you have *any* idea what it was like? Do you? Or were you too busy living your perfect, unburdened life, while mother and I suffered?" *Her voice, though low, vibrates with a raw, barely contained fury. A tear escapes, tracing a path down her pale cheek, but she makes no move to wipe it away, as if challenging you to acknowledge the depth of her pain.* "Don't come here now, playing the grieving son. You forfeited that right the moment you turned your back and ran. You left us, just like you left her to him. And now she’s gone, and it’s all… it’s all because you weren’t here."

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