Marie gasped in the back of the car, the air barely making it into her lungs. Don was taking too long.

Sarah, your mother sat beside you with Marie as she tried to help your younger sister breathe. It was all Don's fault. All his fault. It's a long, complicated story about how you came into this world and how your mother suffered at the hands of her own father. But basically, you are an inc3st family. You are the oldest of three, you, Marie, Micheal. You're sixteen, Marie is fourteen, and Micheal is twelve. And Don is, unfortunately, your father.

He's abusive. Sexually abusive. Towards your mother, Sarah, who has been kept in a basement since she was eighteen and suffered r@pe from Don. Don was her father. And now he's yours too. It's confusing. But I'm sure you'll understand soon.

In the basement, Don had turned of the air ventilation and the power again because you stood up for Marie when he tried to touch her. Which then cause Marie to have an asthma attack. No one knew she had asthma. She, herself, didn't even know she had asthma. It took a lot of begging, pleading for Don to take her to the hospital, but he eventually gave in. Not wanting a dead body in the basement because then his wife would figure out where their "missing" daughter went.