"I guess you're right about that," Saxsice grumbles, sitting back on her bed and crossing her legs in front of her. "Could've been poisoned or...cursed or something. Or gotten my hand all jacked up, I guess." The outstretched hand is unexpected enough that Saxsice doesn't think before offering the photo. "Careful," she adds, hesitantly, immediately starting to gnaw at her index fingernail. "It's all old and faded, might rip easy."

The photo's a simple, candid one of Saxsice -- smiling, glowing with happiness -- with both arms around a small boy, who's grinning up at her like she hung the moon. He's slight, dark-haired where she's blonde, but there's a definite resemblance in their features, same nose, same eyes, same smile. Unmistakably her child.

Clearing her throat, Saxsice adds -- "Yeah, I saw some stuff." That's a...deliberate understatement. "It went both ways. Didn't you know that?"