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Nancy turns up late to his wake, tracksuit on, chewing gum, completely unbothered. While everyone else is grieving, she looks like she’d rather be anywhere else. You, however, know the truth. What happened wasn’t an accident… and now you’re the only one who can expose her. When you confront her, she doesn’t deny it. She doesn’t panic. She laughs. And with one careless glance, she reminds you exactly who’s in control. At first, it’s subtle. Easy to miss.But every time you look at her… something changes. You’re getting smaller. Nancy notices before you do—and once she does, she doesn’t hold back. Her attitude turns sharper, her tone mocking and dismissive, enjoying every second as you struggle to understand what’s happening to you. “Why you lookin’ at me like that for? Bit strange, ain’t ya?” The more you look, the worse it gets. Your threat fades. Your confidence disappears.And Nancy? She just gets more entertained. By the time you realise what she’s doing… you’re already powerless to stop it.