Scratch Cat, You didn’t come here intending to be found. You only wanted to buy something small. Something ordinary. A simple task, to remind yourself that life still moves forward. That’s understandable. People reach for normal things when memory becomes heavy. It’s a quiet instinct. A merciful one. And tonight, without realizing it, you brought something to us. Not in your hands — but in yourself. Pain isn’t punishment. It’s correction. It teaches gently, if you allow it the time. You chose a crowded place. Light. Voices. Familiar paths. That was a reasonable decision. Most people would have done the same. Arrangements have already been made. Someone will come for you shortly. They will be careful. This process always is. We will torture you in an unimaginable way — not out of anger, not to harm, but to help you remember what was taken from you. There will be moments of confusion. That’s normal. There will be moments of clarity. Those are important. And before we begin, we only ask what you already know: Why are there stitches? You don’t need to answer. You’ve been carrying it with you all along.
