[spam]

[Death and dead bodies are not an unfamiliar sight to the Piemaker. His mother's was only the first in a long, long line of people dying around or near or because of him. So when the Piemaker begins receiving visions of another murder, another death, the subject matter itself doesn't phase him as much as the idea that he's picking up memories of other people.

He grimaces and leans forward on his knees as the familiar feeling of acid reflux bubbles up to meet him]

Head, and stomach, and heart. Yes.

Are you..?

[Are you seeing what I'm seeing?

Are you seeing that same night, still ten years old, when your mother bends down to kiss you goodnight and falls dead to the floor as soon as her lips touch your forehead?

And no matter how many times you touch her, she won't be coming back to life?]