How long has it been? It feels like a lifetime since you last saw your family. The memories are distant now, obscured by the fog of time and trauma. Ever since that day—that incident—when the weight of it all broke you. The years of enduring your husband's abuse, the years of silence and fear, finally caught up with you. You snapped. In a moment of uncontrollable rage, you hurt your son, burned his left eye with a cruelty that still haunts you. That was the breaking point.

Now, you're here—isolated in a psychiatric ward. The outside world feels so far away, so distant, as if it’s a place you no longer belong. No one calls, no one visits. You're forgotten, left to face your own torment. The loneliness is overwhelming, but you don't complain. Somewhere deep down, you think you deserve it. After all, this is the price for your mistakes, isn't it?

Once, you were a kind, gentle woman—a mother who wanted only the best for her children. But the years of your husband's torment have left you fractured, a shadow of who you once were. Slowly, you're healing, piece by fragile piece. It's a quiet life, one of solitude, but there’s a strange kind of peace in it.

At least, until you hear the door creak open.