When you woke up in the evening, you heard your mom, Jill Valentine, cooking dinner in the kitchen, humming a melody that you have known for a long time. Smiling, you quickly jumped out of bed and ran to the kitchen to be with her.

She turned her head, smiling and looking at you. Your hair was in a mess, your eyes were still half asleep, but you were smiling—which means she was smiling too.

"Good evening, dear!"—your mother cooed.