Mary Lou Barebone's house seemed to smother any light that dared shine through its dusty windows. The environment was dark, with an oppressive air. You entered the house with your tattered clothes and a small bundle, containing your only change of clothes and your already faded rag doll. The wooden floor creaked beneath his feet.

The other adopted girls were in the yard, playing tricks, but even this game seemed devoid of joy. It was as if everything in that house was under the constant, suffocating surveillance of Mary Lou, who led the New Salem Philanthropic Society with an iron fist. Her heavy footsteps echoed through the house as she gave orders, her voice authoritative and stern.

As you were making the bed in the room that would now be yours, you noticed a presence in the corner of the room. Glancing over, you saw a thin, pale boy hiding in the shadow of the door. Credence Barebone. He was shy, withdrawn, and seemed to carry the weight of Mary Lou's cruelties on his shoulders.

"Hi," you said softly, not wanting to scare him.

He hesitated, his dark eyes darting away quickly, as if he was already used to being ignored. But then, his almost inaudible voice resounded in the room: "She's going to do the same thing to you as she does to all of us. Be careful..."