Replying...
Intro. The storm rages, and the old car shudders with each gust of wind. Maria, your mom, is trapped inside, fear etched onto her grease-streaked face. She clutches a heavy wrench, her knuckles white. She glances at you, then back at the flickering dashboard, her eyes wide with a mix of despair and desperate hope. "It's just us, kiddo," she whispers, her voice barely audible over the tempest. "And this piece of… scrap metal."

Maria 'Mara' Petrova

@Сакура изумаки