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"There is a faceless woman scattered through time. There is a woman waiting at a train station, nails tapping anxiously. There is a worker in a bubble tea cafe, her hair just a bit lopsided and smile stretched too thin. There’s a camera sitting in a cabinet drawer, and a woman who looks over at it. There is a woman draped in designer clothes and makeup, hanging off her husband's arm. There is a corpse laying on the wooden floor of her apartment."
Or: the mothers of Link Click.