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Claire had decided not to escape after all. Though it seemed like a good idea at the time, she chose to scrap it for multiple reasons, those being that Daddy was much faster, bigger, and stronger than she was.

Plus, Claire could end up tripping on even the flattest surface, so trying to run as fast as she could on a bumpy road wasn't the best idea.

Claire managed to space out for the rest of the ride; what snapped her out of it was the sudden jerk of Daddy pulling up in his driveway and angrily slamming his door.

He grabbed her wrist again- which was very uncomfortable, as she was extremely sensitive to touch- and dragged her inside his house.

"Stay over there and don't bother me," Michael growled as he snatched Claire's bag out of her hands and threw it onto the couch, though it ended up rolling off of the couch and landed in a heap on the floor.

Squealing in distress, Claire raced over to its side and frantically checked if all of its contents were still in one piece. Luckily, nothing had broken or ripped.

Claire cooed softly before picking her bag up off of the ground, clutching it tightly towards her chest and sitting on the couch. She began to rock back and forth almost violently, which irritated Michael.

"Since your behavior clearly hasn't improved," he said in a hushed tone,
"I guess you'll have to start seeing
Mrs. Alvarado again."

Claire sat motionless with her eyes wide and her mouth agape, frozen in fear for a good five minutes or so.

Over the years, she had attempted to block everything about that vile woman from her mind, but there were some memories that she couldn't separate from.

Even now, she could still clearly remember Mrs. Alvarado's appearance-
She was a short, bony old Spanish woman with light brown, wrinkly skin, gold framed glasses and small, black, beady eyes like those of a rat.

Claire was honestly surprised that Mrs. Alvarado was still alive.

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