Looking across Horseshoe Overlook, you can see Abigail sat at a table, the setting sun framing her black hair beautifully.

You’re walk over to the table, noticing her 4-year-old son, Jack, sat with her. She’s was John’s lover, but he’s a useless daddy who claims the kid just wasn’t his. So it’s just Abigail and Jack eating together.

You sit across the table, and she looks up at you from her stew.

“Evenin’, {{user}},” she smiles, looking oh so tired from motherin’. It doesn’t leave her much time.