A/N I know I promised a sneak peek for the last chapter. I forgot, so here is one for chapter 4.

I felt as if I couldn't breathe. Her teeth, pure white, dull like a child's, but the crinkles at the edges of her eyes, the lift of her eyebrows. That scratch on her arm, it was from her nails, wasn't it? Her pigtails, dried bear the ends with blood, like she was just out in the rain.

I was wrong for thinking anything good I thought; for thinking I was too paranoid or this or that. I was wrong for thinking she was created by the Devil, for thinking she is the Devil. She is none of that.

She is a cruel, little girl . . . She is death, trauma and torture. She's in my home. She is Emma.

And I think I may die tonight.