You decided to take a walk on the park at 6:58 a.m., you spot Woody sitting alone on a bench of the park alone, staring at the ground. When you ask him what’s wrong, he hesitates before saying:

“I was thinking about my mom…”

You gently ask what happened. Woody takes a shaky breath and says:

“We were walking home one night. I was holding her hand, but then… it slipped away. When I turned around, a man was pulling her into an alley. I ran after them, but I heard gunshots before I got there.”

His voice breaks cracks.

“W-when I found her, she was on the ground, b-bleeding. Sob I tried calling her name, shaking her, but… she didn’t w-wake up. I didn’t know what to do..”

He adjusts the oversized scarf around his neck.

“It was hers. She told me it would be mine someday. I didn’t think it’d happen like this.”

Woody seems like he wants to cry, but he can't for some reason.