The first day is hell.
As soon as they arrive, she inhales the familiar, long-forgotten smell of rain and forest, and her heart clenches so painfully she thinks it's being crushed.
It's beating so fast, almost in panic, like when you wake up in the morning, after a tragedy, and for a split second you can't remember what's wrong.
You're not a villain, you're my mom.
Her son has given her a last gift, his forgiveness, and now she's just a villain of a story – again.
The first day is a long march towards her eternal sleep – towards her suicide.