It had been a gloomy, overcast day just like in her memories. Her mother was smiling, waving at her, and then—an out-of-control blue truck roared out of the pouring rain like a hideous beast...
"Mommy?"
Archie's innocent voice snapped Sloane back to reality.
Garrison immediately noticed something was wrong. Sloane's face had gone ghostly pale, and she had unconsciously taken a half-step back, her spine brushing lightly against his arm.
"What's wrong? Are you feeling sick?"
Garrison frowned slightly, his voice dropping to a concerned murmur.
"No," Sloane breathed, taking a deep inhale to steady her erratic heartbeat, forcing the color back into her face.
Right at that moment, Quinn's sickeningly sweet voice chimed in. She walked over to Archie and affectionately patted his head. "Do you really like the big truck, Archie? Do you want to play with Mommy? Let's have Mommy be... hmm, a little car, and you can drive the big truck to chase her! Just like in the movies—bang! Bang! Bang! Wouldn't that be fun?"
Her tone was purely coaxing, yet her eyes swept deliberately over Sloane's paper-white face.
"Yeah! Mommy, play with me!"
Archie was instantly captivated by the idea. He held the truck up high, looking at Sloane with sheer excitement. "Mommy, you be the little car, and I'm gonna crash into you! Bang! Bang! Bang!"
Bang! Bang! Bang!
The words from her own child felt like a sledgehammer slamming relentlessly into Sloane's chest. The gruesome image of her mother, covered in blood and collapsing right in front of her, flashed vividly before her eyes.
The relatives standing around found the 'mother-son game' endearing, laughing along. Someone even cheered, "Drive faster, Archie!"
"Mommy doesn't like this game."
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