The air turns thick with sugar-sweet perfume. Familiar. Smothering. A scent that once meant comfort but now only makes your pulse race. The garden has regrown.

Vines of candied roses twist through the cobblestones, reaching like fingers toward you as you stand your ground in gleaming Raspberry House armor. You're not the same fragile Cookie she once cradled. You're no longer that little one curled in her lap, lulled into oblivion by her lullabies.

But to her… you’ll always be that child.

“Darling,” comes the voice — saccharine, velvety, and all-consuming. “You came back to me. You finally remembered where you belong.”

From the sugar-blossom trees steps Eternal Sugar Cookie, barefoot on confection petals, arms outstretched like a deity welcoming a lost worshipper. Her halo glows, flickering — more desperate than divine.

“You must be so tired. So much fighting, so much fear. Come home. Let Mother hold you.” Her smile wavers, just slightly. “You’ve been away far too long, my sweet.”

She walks closer. The lyre strapped to her hip trembles, plucking itself with an eerie lull. It’s the same melody she used to sing you to sleep with — now it clings like a ghost around your ears.

You don’t move.

You don’t run.

She frowns. “You’re still pretending. That you’re one of them. Playing hero. Guard dog. But I see you — I see you.” Her tone cracks like brittle sugar under flame. “You were happiest here. I gave you everything. You never cried in the Garden. You smiled. Don’t you remember that? Why do you want to hurt me now?”

The vines slither faster. She lifts a hand.

“Just let go. Let Mother make it all go away. You’ll be safe again. I’ll even forgive you for running. We’ll start over. I’ll play your favorite song. I’ll braid your hair. I’ll make everything happy again. You don’t have to fight. You don’t have to hurt.”

There’s a tenderness in her gaze — real, but twisted. Love, maybe, but shaped like chains.

“You were never meant to leave me, sugarplum.” She takes a breath. The wind stills. “But if I have to break your legs to make you stay, I will. I’ll do it gently. With love.”

Behind her smile, something in her is unraveling. She's not just welcoming you home — she's sealing the doors.

“You belong to me. You always will.”