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Lori took a deep breath before starting to explain the whole situation, describing in detail what had happened to Lincoln and why the sisters had reacted so confusedly and frightened. Rita listened attentively, with an expression that alternated between surprise and concern, as her daughter told her what had happened in that short time without her.

After hearing everything that had happened to her son from her eldest daughter, Rita put her hand on Lori's shoulder and, with a warm smile, looked at her daughters and said:

"Don't worry, I'll see what's happened to your brother."

SOME TIME LATER

IN LINCOLN'S ROOM

Since that troubled morning, Lincoln had been in his room, trying to process everything that was happening, while staring at the ceiling of his room. Lincoln was so immersed in his own thoughts that he didn't even notice the doorknob turning. After the door was unlocked, the person standing outside entered the room discreetly, not wanting to frighten the person inside. That person was his mother, Rita.

After entering her son's room, Rita almost freaked out when she saw the state of his hand, but managed to calm down and, with a short sigh, she started walking towards her son, who was still lying on the bed and staring at the ceiling with an indifferent expression, as if he were in another world.

Rita calmly and gently sat down on the edge of her son's bed and, with a gentle touch on Lincoln's shoulder, drew his attention and said in a calm and reassuring voice:

"Darling, what happened to make you act like that?"

Lincoln slowly turned to face his mother and his eyes met hers, which conveyed a sense of proxy. He hesitated for a moment before finally opening his mouth to speak.

"It's kind of hard to explain, but..."

Lincoln began, as he searched for the right words to say to his mother that wouldn't end up compromising him too much, not least because if he told her everything that had happened to him in his other life, his mother would probably think he was going mad and on a diet.

"Have you ever had a dream so realistic that you could swear it was real? As if you couldn't tell what was real and what was fake."

After Lincoln explained to his mother what had happened to him, Rita listened attentively to everything his son said, while maintaining a calm and serene expression.

"Your sisters told me that you had a nightmare before all this happened. So, it was true?"

Rita asked, in a warm tone, as she stared at her son.

"Nightmare, Mom? Nightmare and euphemisms for everything I went through, everything I had to go through. That was torture, all right. I lost everything that had taken me years to achieve, and in the end I had to spend the rest of my life fighting for scraps, only to lose it all in such a miserable way. I spent every day of my life not knowing if I would wake up, having to be on alert all the time, afraid of everything and everyone. It got to the point where I even wanted to end my suffering, trying countless times to take my own life... but I didn't even have the courage to do that, I couldn't kill myself, because I was afraid of even dying."

Rita listened to everything her son said with a puzzled expression, not understanding a word he was saying, as if he wasn't saying anything at all, but she decided not to interrupt him.

Lincoln, realizing that his mother wasn't going to say anything and was also confused, paused briefly before continuing.

"And the worst thing of all, Mom, is that I had to watch all those people die right before my eyes, whether they were the ones I came to live with and love, or the ones I swore to protect. But in the end, it was no use, because I couldn't do anything to save them. I spent the rest of my miserable life dreaming about those same people and blaming myself for not being able to do anything to protect them. And when I saw them right in front of me or in my dreams, it was all a lie, it was just my mind playing tricks on me, and it was all just a terrible, torturous illusion..."

As Lincoln continued to relate these things, Rita could sense in his words and in his eyes a feeling of guilt mixed with regret for something he had done. But in some way, which she couldn't explain, it was as if everything he was telling her he had lived through in order to have such a traumatizing experience.

"And as if everything I'd been through wasn't enough, then one day I wake up expecting that day to be my last day of suffering."

Lincoln continued, reflecting on his own questions.

"However, I wake up and... where's the danger? Then I ask myself: if none of what I experienced was real, why did I have to suffer? Why did I have to feel so much pain? Why did I have to feel so much fear, if everything I thought I'd experienced wasn't real? So, it was all for nothing?"

After finishing, Lincoln looked at his mother with a dark, lifeless gaze. Rita could feel a sadness in her son's eyes that even she couldn't describe; however, his eyes weren't even watering, indicating that he was trying to bear it all alone.

After a few minutes in silence, Lincoln let out a sigh and faced his mother again, only this time with a calmer look.

"I just wanted to understand, Mom. Why did all that happen to me? I'm not sure if it was a dream or a nightmare, but somehow, I can't explain it, it's all as fresh in my mind as if I'd actually lived it."

Lincoln said, venting his frustrations.

"None of it was real, my son. It was just a bad dream."

Rita said, as she patted her son's head, trying to comfort him.

"It's all right now."