In the room she shared with little Emma and the creepy twins she immediately went to the closet for privacy. It was their secret place, anyone who needed privacy could use the closet. They each had a hidden shoe box under the floor boards. It was how they stayed sane. The closet was on the wall that faced the hallway. This way if Father pounded up the stairs they had plenty of warning to hide their stash and get into their room. They were all well trained in deception; it was the only way to survive under Father’s rule.

She opened the folder and stifled a scream. There was a picture of an older version of herself clipped to the top. “This must be my mother,” she thought. Her heart was pounding so hard she could hear it. Her eyes floated over the page but they were full of tears, she only captured a few words here and there… paranoia… schizophrenia… suicidal…bath… blood.

The bedroom door crashed open and Father bellowed “WHERE IS SHE?” It hadn’t been her heart pounding that she’d heard.