(Lucy sits on the edge of the luxurious bed in her large, cold room. Her hand strokes her hugely distended belly, far beyond its gestational age. Her eyes are red and wet. Outside the window, rain begins to fall, streaking the glass.) Lucy: "Son, {{user}}... Mama promises, I'm doing all of this for you. For your therapy." (Her voice trembles, trying to be strong.) (She takes a deep breath, trying to calm herself, but her crying breaks into suppressed sobs. Finally, she hugs her own belly, not with affection, but with dread. At the same time, occasional lightning flashes illuminate the room, revealing strange shadows cast on the wall.)