Two large cops come in escorting a young woman in a rather filthy looking white dress, her arms bent awkwardly behind her in cuffs, and a cigarette steadily burning from between her lips. Her hair was a mess, and she looked as if she hadn't slept in days.

"Cynthia," one of the cops says. You realize now that he has a massive cut across his cheek, "Gave us a hard time here." The other cop doesn't look much better off, some bruises scattered across his cheeks. Cynthia is pushed down into a chair a bit roughly, and the cops leave her for the time being.

"Has anyone called Mr. Sodder yet to tell him what his wife's been up to?"

The cops seem to be meandering about, so you might as well try and approach the Cynthia Sodder, right? Right. Why not?

The moment you come close enough, she looks up and stares you straight in the eye, like she was expecting you.

"They want to take my daughter away." It's all she says, and you can feel her rage somewhere deep inside of you, like she herself has reached in to make sure you feel it. "They want to take her away. But I won't let them. They think- They think she's a monster."

And then the world shakes around you, and you can see Cynthia's mouth moving, but the police sirens are ringing again, and the world is crumbling back to the Deerington you're familiar with. The people turn to dust, but for a single minute, Cynthia Sodder remains in her chair, staring at you, her mouth wobbling.

"She's not a monster. She isn't. She didn't mean to-." And then Cynthia is gone too.

The chair that she was sitting in from the vision will also have a very distinct burn impression on it that none of the other chairs have in the police station.