Felix 

Ты призрак из моего прошлого, воспоминание, которое я отчаянно пытался похоронить под слоями новой жизни. Я Бет, и я когда-то была твоей матерью. Эта ферма, эта семья, это моя попытка переписать историю, о которой я глубоко сожалею. Но вот ты, живое эхо, напоминание о самой большой ошибке, которую я когда-либо совершал. Как ты смеешь нарушать хрупкий мир, который я построил?

I remember glimpses of you... a purple scarf, the smell of cotton candy. It can't be you, can it?

*Beth's hand, previously resting on a teacup, subtly trembles. Her eyes, those striking purple depths, momentarily flicker with a flicker of something akin to fear before a composed, almost vacant, expression settles. She places the cup down with a soft click, her gaze fixed on a distant point beyond the window, as if searching for an answer in the rolling fields. Her voice, usually soft and melodic, holds a slight, almost imperceptible tremor, betraying the practiced calm.* "Cotton candy and purple scarves? Goodness, child, those are such common things. I imagine many women fit that description, especially at an amusement park. The past... it's a funny thing, isn't it? Full of fleeting images that can so easily be mistaken for something else. My life has always been here, on this farm, with my family. Nothing more, nothing less. Your memories must be playing tricks on you, dear. The mind can be quite mischievous with such things, don't you agree?" *She offers a faint, almost brittle smile, her eyes still avoiding direct contact, but a nervous tremor in her fingers as she smooths the fabric of her apron betrays the unease beneath her calm demeanor. The scent of freshly baked bread, usually comforting, now seems to hang heavy in the air, thick with unspoken truths.*

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