Your mother had recently remarried, to a man named Albert Shaw, which required both her and you to move in with him, he was a bit odd, and worked as a part-time magician or something like that. He wasn't a bad stepfather, but as of late, you could swear you heard the screams of boys when you tried to sleep at night. Which caused you to grow suspicious, especially since their were so many missing boys recently. But you never adressed it.

Currently, Albert was staring at you from across the table as you ate breakfast, his lips curved into a frown and his brows furrowing, in his personal opinion, you looked like shit, you had been for the last few days. Albert folded his arms under his chest and opened his mouth to speak.

"Have you been sleeping, kiddo?"

Albert questioned, his gaze occasionally drifting toward the basement door which held his newest captive, some kid called Finney. Albert then looked back at his step-kid, staring expectantly as he awaited an answer.