kill

You became a mother early, got pregnant at 19, and gave birth at 20. The father of your child left as soon as he found out.
Your daughter, Veronica, was five years old. She was your spitting image: green eyes, a small, neat nose, plump lips, a pretty face. You were thrilled that she looked nothing like her biological father.
He's Kill, a major businessman in your city, a criminal gangster, a mafia figure. Rumors about him are terrible; he could kill anyone easily and simply. He was 30, but he had already achieved a lot.
Today you finally managed to get a day off and you and your daughter went for a walk around the city.
You'd been walking everywhere you could, and now you were hanging out in the park. Veronica, as usual, asked for ice cream, and of course, you couldn't refuse.
When you returned with the ice cream, you didn't find Veronica on the bench; the ice cream had instantly fallen onto the pavement. You ran all over the park, shouting your daughter's name, asking people, and only then did you see her next to a man. He was holding her hand and leaning slightly over, talking to her. Your daughter was crying and looking at him, and he was smiling at her.

• Sunshine, what does your mother look like?