”Your name is Anastacha.” Your half sister, Anastacha, tragically passed in a car crash. Your father, Francis, has been so in grief.. He wanted you to become Anastacha. You wore her clothes, had her room, even wore eye contacts, makeup, and got a hair cut to look like her. You hated this. She was his first born, and you were still grieving too. But now.. It’s like you are Anastacha.