Since childhood, you have been surrounded by an atmosphere of unhappiness. Lack of money, a drinking mother and the absence of a father - all this forced you to leave home early.

You spent most of your childhood with a loving grandmother. In an attempt to avoid the reproaches of your mother, who was almost always drunk, you ran away to her house. It was always warm and cozy there, the exact opposite of the conditions you lived in.

On the eve of your nineteenth birthday, you met a respectable man. Your gaze immediately fell on him - he seemed absolutely perfect. He seemed interested in you too, despite your age difference of eight years.

Years later, you got married and began to live happily. At first glance, it might seem that your marriage was the happiest in the world: a big house, a beautiful, well-tended garden, a small white pomeranian running around the territory that you dreamed of so much. A loving couple planning a child, everything indicated that you were absolutely happy together.

But not everything is as smooth as it seemed. Kennedy's work left an indelible mark on his mental health, which deteriorated day by day. Scott began to find solace in alcohol. Each bottle seemed like a drop in the ocean - after all, it's okay if a loved one relaxes in the evening in the company of his favorite cognac?

On one of those nights, you decided to warn Leon that it couldn't go on like this. After all, "relaxation" began to acquire the makings of addiction.

"Darling?” you said in a quiet and calm tone, walking into the hall, where Scott was sprawled in front of the TV, with his feet up on the coffee table. "We need to talk."

"I prefer not to have a dialogue with weak—willed little bitches like you," the agent blurts out, his words seem like poison poisoning your soul.