Days dragged into weeks, and an uneasy calm held sway. None of Lincoln's sisters were speaking to him, the silent treatment so total that they didn't even make fun of him anymore: No comments about being with other men, no sidelong glances, no sneers or remarks in his direction. Hell, they wouldn't even look at him.

And it was driving him crazy.

So many times over the years he'd wished they'd shut their fucking mouths and leave him alone, but now that he finally had it, he couldn't take it. Even Leni was ignoring him; her disposition was too kind for her to have made that decision alone...Lori must have gotten to her. Or maybe Lynn.

Lynn was the only one who acknowledged him; she would watch him with narrowed, hateful eyes at dinner. He had taken to sleeping in Lacy's bed each night, and Lynn made it a habit to come in and kiss their daughter on the forehead and stroke her hair even though she'd never done so in the past. Fucking bitch. She never wanted Lacy. The first thing she said when she found out she was pregnant was "I hope this doesn't affect my sports career." Oh, but it did, and as the months passed and she became unable to play even a game of catch in the backyard, she grew frustrated. She told him once she wished he pulled out. Then, when Lacy was born, she softened...but only a little. "I guess you're a fair trade for my sports career," she told the infant as she held her in the hospital.

And you know what's really sick? All these years later, she still blamed him for 'ruining' her 'career.' Oh, I was gonna go pro...I was so great...the best ever.

No, Lynn, you weren't; you had talent, sure...for a small town high school team. You never would have made it on a pro team, or even a college one. Shut up. Your life would have turned out exactly the same: Married, children, broken dreams, miserable.

Lincoln had his own broken dreams, but he didn't blame his sisters; he was going to be a comic book artist. Well...guess what...that didn't happen. Boo hoo. Grow up and move on.

She was the only one to outright say she blamed him, but he got the feeling that the others felt the same. They were all young when they conceived, and all of their wants and desires had to be scrapped in favor of motherhood: Lola's pageants, Luna's music, Luan's comedy.

Oh, and how they fucking resented it.

During this time, his daughters were also standoffish...well, the older ones, at any rate. They didn't totally ignore him like their bitch mothers, but Lincoln could sense a certain static in the air when he spoke to or encountered them. Lupa was the worst: A few times he caught her looking at him with clear and abiding disgust written across her face. That bothered him more than his sisters and their shit. He and Lupa had never been close. She was like her mother, a loner who prefered quiet and solitude. She had always been that way, but even as a toddler she never sat with him the way the others did, she never snuggled up next to him or showed him any kind of affection. He didn't take it personally because she never did any of those things to Lucy either, but as she grew, he noticed that she did have the capacity for warmth and caring - for her sisters, namely Liena, Lyra, and Lacy...Lacy especially. He saw plenty of soft looks and fleeting touches between the two, heard Lupa many times giving Lacy advice and encouragement. That was great...heartwarming...

...but why didn't she love him?

Maybe she thought he didn't love her. After all, he stayed out of her way and didn't bother her because he figured she hated him. They were probably both convinced the other didn't care for them, meanwhile they each ached for a relationship.

He would go to her, he decided; he'd sit her down and let her know that he loved her.

The only ones in the house who openly embraced him anymore were Lacy and Leia. After discovering that Lacy was pregnant, he began to sleeping in her bed and spending more time with her, which obviously made Leia jealous; every time he turned around she was there with a big, hopeful smile and loving eyes. "Daddy, can we watch TV?" "Daddy, can we take a bath?" "Daddy, can you sleep in my room tonight?" He turned her down more often than not, and when he saw the disappointment in her eyes, he felt like such a piece of shit he could cry. He took her aside once and explained his reasoning, hoping to God she would understand.

Lacy's pregnant, he told her, and right now she needs me to be there for her.

So...she's your favorite?

That struck Lincoln's heart like a bullet. He put his arm around his daughter and pulled her close to him. No, honey, no, she just...she really needs me right now. It's...it's hard to explain. She's going through a really rough time right now and I need to be there for her.

Leia sighed dejectedly and bowed her head. I guess, she said sullenly.

Sitting there and trying to console his six-year-old, it occurred to Lincoln, and not for the first time, just how tangled and complicated his relationship with his daughters was.

He took the next day off from work and kept Leia home from school so they could spend time together; they passed the majority of it in bed, their tacky bodies sticking together and their hot breaths mingling. "I love you, Daddy," she told him, "and I want to marry you."

That made two daughters who wanted to be his bride.

And one daughter filled with his child, constantly growing in her womb, its defective mind and body slowly forming. He didn't know how far along she was (he couldn't take her to the doctor because they might ask hard questions), but she was beginning to show already, just a little. When he held her he rested his hand on her stomach and tried to picture the thing within, but it disturbed him too much: He imagined tentacles, twisted bones, eyes filled with mindless idiocy.

He loved his daughter...and he loved their child...which is why, on the morning of December 4, he slipped into the basement, snapped on the overhead light, and descended the stairs. Dust stirred by his passage filled the air, and ancient wood creaked underfoot. His shoulders were bowed and his stomach rolled sickly; his tread was heavy, his feet barely leaving the ground.

At the foot of the stairs, he took a left into an alcove. The walls were brick, the floor was dirt; the earthy smell made him nauseous. He stopped at a large shelf crammed with vials, jars, and containers, each one of them filled with liquid and neatly labeled. Others stuff sat on a nearby workbench, all of the things he took out of Lisa's lab after the accident earlier in the year.

He knew what he was looking for...knew that it was here...but for a long time he stood with his hands on his hips and scanned the shelves; he knew he was delaying the inevitable, but he wasn't looking forward to this...God, he didn't want to do it.

Finally, he started to go through the glasses, his hands trembling. He found what he was looking for and picked it up; it shook in his grasp, the clear fluid within sloshing against the sides. He read and reread the yellowed label, his heart staggering and his breathing short.

Was he really going to do this?

Could he do this?

Hot tears welled in his eyes. He sat the jar down and went back upstairs. He felt cold...and dirty.

In the master bathroom, he stirpped, climbed into the shower, and turned the water as hot as he could stand. He stood under the spray, but the grime and chill were both internal, and nothing could scrub them away. He leaned his forehead against the slick tiled wall and ran through his plan for the millionth time since it came to him a week before, as he cuddled with Lacy in bed. A shiver went through him and nearly slipped.

It had to be done, though.

It was for the best.

And in life, sometimes the best thing is the hardest thing to do.

He didn't want to do this, though. God, he didn't want to.

When he was done, he got out and toweled off, then dressed in a pair of jeans and a flannel shirt. He went downstairs and through the dining room; Lacy was the only one at the table to look up at him, and a loving smile crossed her face. Lincoln flashed a tight grimace and hurried on, the feeling of dirtiness increasing exponentially. She loved him unconditionally...and here he was planning to do something so terrible, so awful that she would probably never forgive him.

It was for her for own good, though.

And their baby's.

There was a new boy in Lupa's class...and he liked her.

Ugh.

His name was Bronson, and he was one of those suburban white boys who dress like they're from the hood; he wore baggy pants, baggy shirts, Phat Pharm tennis shoes, and a silver chain around his neck. When he sat in a chair not attached to a desk, he had a bad habit of manspreading, his knees so far apart you'd need a car to get from one to the other, and when he spoke, he sounded like that dumbass...what's his name? You know, the white rapper with the fangs. Post Malone? No, not him..the other one.

Riff Raff! That's it.

Lupa fucking hated Riff Raff and she fucking hated Bronson; the moment she laid eyes on him her lips puckered and her brow crinkled. Ugh, really? Just when I thought my life couldn't get any worse, here comes 'Lil Nutsack. Perfect.

On his first day, the teacher stuck him in the only open seat...which just so happened to be right next to Lupa. Oh, happy fucking day. Throughout their first class together, he kept stealing sidelong glances at her; dumb bastard thought she didn't notice, but she did. At first she assumed he was looking at her legs...deformities always draw rubberneckers. Oh, look, someone's different. Let's heap derision and ignorance on them.

Or maybe it was her white hair. People gawked at that too.

Never, though, did she even for a second think he was checking her out...until two days later. She was at her locker getting her chemistry book when he came strutting up, his back bowed slightly back. When she slammed the door and turned, he was there, and she started. "Yo, girl, what it do?" he asked with a nod.

Lupa's brow pinched. What it do? What the fuck? No, she understood he was asking her how it was in Moron, but...really, how the hell did that phrase even happen? Who first uttered it? Who thought it up and went Gee, this a great way to ask someone what's up? She didn't know, but she imagined they were dumb as a box of dogshit.

Instead of dignifying this stupid bastard with a response, she silently glared at him.

Someone people, though, can't take a hint. Dude donned an idiot grin and nodded. "So, you tryin' to see a movie? Maybe go to McDonald's and chill?"

Lupa's jaw nearly dropped. Whoa, whoa, whoa...did he just ask her on a date?

To McDonald's?

She couldn't help it, she reallly couldn't: She laughed. She laughed so hard tears streamed down her face and her head ached, so hard she could barely breathe, so hard she nearly went over like a lightning struck tree in a forest. Bronson's smile faltered and he cocked an eyebrow, and that made her laugh even harder; passing kids looked at her like she was crazy.

"Aye, you 'ight?" he asked.

She didn't know what was funnier...him asking her out or him asking her out to fucking McDonald's. Come on, guy, if you wanna take a girl out you gotta do better than a fast food joint. It doesn't have to be a thousand dollar a plate restaurant...hell, even Pizza Hut would be okay. She brushed a tear away from her eye and shook her head slowly. "Not gonna happen," she said. "Sorry."

Instead of reacting poorly and calling her a bitch ass ho or something like she expected, he simply shrugged. "'Ight."

That wasn't the end of it, though. A week later, she was sitting at her desk with her chin in her palm and fighting to stay awake when someone issued an annoying psssst. She looked over, and he was holding out a folded piece of paper. She glared at him, and he waved it instantly around. She shook her head. No.

He leaned over and waved the note even harder.

"No," she said tightly.

He leaned over completely and sat it on her desk. She flashed and swept it off; it landed on the floor with a papey plop. Bronson narrowed his eyes. "The fuck's wrong wit'chu?"

Hot rage well in Lupa's chest; her teeth ground and her fists clenched, a hot blush spreading across her face "Fuck you," she hissed, "leave me alone."

Bronson's face darkened. "Bitch," he said.

Lupa snatched her text book off the desk and drew it back; he flinched and threw up his arms.

"Lupa," the teacher said sharply, "what are you doing?"

For a moment she was frozen in place, the book cocked and ready to fire….then she slammed it against the desk and turned to face the front of the room. "Nothing," she said.

"Can I continue?" he asked with a snarky edge that made Lupa even angrier.

"Please," she retorted.

She stared straight ahead for the rest of the class, even when she caught Bronson looking at her from the corner of her eye. Screw him, ugly ass, wannabe ass, fucking Paul Wall looking piece of shit. Isn't that just like a man? A girl doesn't want him so she's automatically a 'bitch' or a 'dyke' or something. Spoken like a true fuckboy, Slim Shady ass dicklick.

Today, December 4, she sat at a long table in the cafeteria across from Lacy, a tray of food in front of her: Lumpy mashed potatoes, anemic looking green beans, and a slab of mystery meat slathered in brown grave; it could have been horse...or shoe leather...or any damn thing but US Grade A. She flipped it over with her fork and it made a wet, disgusting plopping sound. Sigh. She glanced up at Lacy, who ate ravenously, her lips smeared brown and her jaw working as she chewed. Over the past few weeks, she had gone from a 'gotta watch my weight because sports' type to 'gotta eat every five minutes because pregnancy.' Lupa got it, she was eating for two now, but damn, she was a machine. That kid was gonna come out weighing fifteen pounds and gnawing on a chicken bone.

Lupa turned her patty over again, then set her fork down and pushed the tray across the table. "Here," she said, "you can have mine."

Swallowing, Lacy grabbed it and dragged it closer. "Thanks."

She was really starting to show, Lupa thought as she opened her milk carton and took a drink. You wouldn't notice unless you were looking for it (and if she was wearing a loose fitting jersey like she was now), but her stomach was clearly growing, and if you touched it (which Lupa had) it felt strange and hard. Since her sister was pregnant, Lupa brushed up on her pregnancy facts, and apparently a woman's gut get firmer to protect the baby. The human body's an amazing thing, isn't it? The way it functions and adapts. Lupa didn't believe in God, but looking at certain things she kind of wondered.

Anyway, she was showing and soon, it would be painfully obvious that she had a bun in the oven, which was not a good thing as far as Dad was concerned; she overheard him and aunt Lynn talking, and Dad was adamant that Lacy's pregnancy be kept a secret.

Probably because he didn't want to go to jail or something.

Even though he fucking deserved it.

That was Dad for you, though, always thinking about himself. Just like his bitch sisters.

Lupa's chest clinched and she clamped her bottom lip between her teeth. It made her feel guilty, but over the past couple weeks, since Dad and aunt Lynn's fight in the bathroom, she had come to realize something: She hated them. She hated her father, her mother (currently on a three month 'vampire hunting' trip in Transylvania), her aunts, and her grandparents; she hated her grandfather, who she had never met, and her grandmother, who lived across town with aunt Lily and wouldn't have anything to do with them. She hated her father for what he did to her and her siblings - fucking his own sisters and producing damaged children - she hated Lori, Leni, Luna, and the rest for the same reason. She hated them all for how selfish and petty they were: Lola always on her phone and worrying about her appearance; Luna always going to concerts without her kids (oh, don't mind me, I'm a childless rock chick out on the town!). They all existed in a perpetual state of head-up-their-ass-itude.

She really hoped Lacy wasn't like that with her baby.

Dad would be.

Until it was old enough to fuck...if it was a girl.

She was so lost in thought that she didn't realize someone was standing over her shoulder until they spoke, "Ay'yo."

Her nerves grated.

It was Bronson.

Why can't some people take a hint? Why are some people so fucking imbecilic that they have to have every little they spelled out for them? She honestly didn't get it; did their brains not work right? Were they missing pieces of it? Come on, if she was in his shoes, she would have smartened up real quick. She glared at me and told me to leave her alone...she must not be interested. With men, though, apparently it's...guess I better keep going.

Slowly, Lupa turned her head over her shoulder; as she did so, she summoned the meanest, nastiest, sourest expression she could, her lips pursed, the corners turned down; eyes hard and narrow; forehead pinched. Their eyes locked, and a flicker of uncertainty crossed his face and he fell back a step. Lacy watched intently, her fork half way to her mouth and her body tense. At the slightest provocation, she would jump in and protect her sister if need be.

"Yo," Bronson said, "you ain't tryin' do nuffin, really?"

"Yes," Lupa said tightly.

"Why, doe?"

His shoulders lifted and dropped and his hands spread.

She took a deep, even breath through her nose. "I'm not interested," she said calmly. "Sorry."

Bronson rolled his eyes. "Girl, you can't be picky. Look at yo legs. You gotta…"

Lupa snapped. She balled her fist and lashed out; her hand connected with his groin and his eyes went wide, the words dying on his lips. "Oh, shit," Lacy said and laughed.

His hands went to his crotch and he sank to his knees, his head bowing. Lupa felt a dark rush of satisfaction. "Now fuck off," she said just as Principal Magin walked up, his hands fluttering to his hips. Lupa looked up into his face and her heart skipped a beat.

Aw, shit.

That's how she wound up sitting in the main office with her arms crossed and a scowl on her face; her crutches sat across her lap and her fingers tapped against her elbow. Principal Magin had already chewed her a new asshole and suspended her, now she was waiting for her father to come pick her up. Home, school, what was the difference? She hated both in equal measure, though at least at home she didn't have some little bitch sniffing around her butt. She drew a heavy sigh. She could really use a cigarette. She had a pack and a lighter in the pocket of her hoodie, and as soon as she slipped into Dad's car…

Oh, speak of the Devil, here he is now coming through the door, his thin frame clad in jeans and a red flannel shirt; his face was set in an expression that said I'm not happy. Yeah, buddy, neither am I. He crossed to the counter and the secretary glanced up at him.

"I'm here to pick up my daughter," he said, "Lupa Loud."

"She's right there," she said and nodded. Dad looked over his shoulder, and Lupa glanced away, her fingers tapping faster now. Since Lacy got pregnant, Lupa couldn't look him in the face; when she did her stomach turned and she felt like she was going to be sick.

Dad glared at her for a moment, then came over. "Come on," he said shortly.

In the car, Lupa pulled out her pack, shook a cigarette out, and plopped it into her mouth. She lit it and took a deep drag, the harsh smoke rolling into her lungs. Dad gripped the wheel and stared straight ahead as he navigated the car through the streets of Royal Woods. Lupa stared out the window, thin smoke curling from the tip of her cigarette. She took another puff and held it until her lungs burst. She didn't feel as unremittingly pessimistic; the nicotine was working its magic. The sweet, sweet nicotine.

"Why'd you hit that boy?" Dad asked without looking at her.

Lupa lifted the filter to her lips and sucked. "He was harassing me."

Dad glanced at her then. "He was?"

Lupa nodded. "Umhm."

"How?"

She told him everything, from the moment Bronson swished into class like God's gift to blue eyed hip hop to the moment she punched his shriveled up little testicles in. He listened intently, nodding and grunting here and there. By the time she was finished, they were sitting in the driveway and she was three quarters of the way through her second cigarette. Dad sighed. "Honey..I know he was getting on your nerves, but you don't hit someone like that. It's wrong."

"And choking aunt Lynn isn't?" Lupa asked sourly.

Dad blinked, a tiny blush of shame coloring his face. He opened his mouth to speak, then looked down at his lap. "Yeah. That was wrong too."

Lupa hummed and took a drag. Dad looked at her, his eyes filled with something like need. Need for what she didn't know, but her heart squeezed at what it probably was; they had an understanding, but she wouldn't put it past him to renege.

She threw the door open, twisted, and grabbed her crutches from the back. She got out, got them under her arms, and hobbled to the door. Dad followed, leaning over and opening the door for her. Okay, she was wrong; she had a little bitch sniffing around her butt at home too now.

Aunt Luna, aunt Lana, aunt Lola, and aunt Lori were sitting on the couch watching one of those dumb soaps they loved so much. When Principal Magin called the house, Lupa was sitting in his office and distinctly heard aunt Lori say, "I am literally busy, I can't come." Yeah, she looked real fucking busy.

None of them turned as Lupa went up the stairs, her pace agonizingly slow. She hated climbing them with her crutches; it was such a pain in the ass. At the top, she glanced over her shoulder, and her father was there. "Do you need something?" she asked shortly.

Dad opened his mouth, closed it again, then sighed. "I want to talk to you."

'Talk'? Is that what you call it now, Linc? She didn't say this - or anything else - as she clunked into her room. Dad came behind and closed the door behind him as she sat and threw her crutches aside. She relished the sound they made as they hit the floor...she really fucking hated those things.

Dad stood by the door for a moment looking uncomfortable, then he came over and sat next to her with a sigh, the mattress dipping down. He folded his hands in his lap and stared at Lacy's bed - well, his bed too. He didn't say anything for a long time, and Lupa was beginning to get uncomfortable. "I've been thinking a lot lately," he started, "about us. We've never been...really close and I just wanted to tell you I love you."

When he snaked his arm around her shoulders, her heart blasted against her chest. "Get the fuck off of me," she cried and drew violently away. Dad pulled his arm away and fixed her with a hurt expression. Lupa did not see this,however; she saw him on top of Lacy and thrusting, his face red and sweat sheening his forehead; she saw him sitting on the couch and holding a naked Leia - a naked fucking six-year-old - as he filled her with his seed; saw the man who saddled her sister with a defective child...the man who saddled her with defective legs.

"Lupa…" he said.

"Leave me alone!"

He winced. "Lupa, look, I just…"

"Aunt Lynn's a bitch but she was right. You're a piece of shit...and a child molester."

He recoiled as if slapped.

Something about the dumb, wounded look on his face filled her with rage. Oh, poor little victim, poor Lincoln, he never did anything wrong. She sneered. "You're a bastard, a fucking loser who has sex with his daughters because he's fucked in his head. You make me sick."

The hurt drained from Dad's face, and dark anger took its place. "Look, you…"

"No, you look!" She bent, lifted her skirt, and yanked down her socks: Her legs were bumped, twisted, and withered. "Look at what you did to me. Go into Loan's room and look what you did to her...look what you did to Lacy. You're abnormal, this whole fucking family is abnormal." Her rage, held inside for so long, was spilling forth now, and she wouldn't have been able to hold it back even if she wanted to. Her face was red, her eyes were pooled with loathing, and her teeth were clenched. "You and your bitch sisters…"

"Shut the fuck up," he said lowly, dangerously.

"...did this to us. And now you get Lacy pregnant because this wasn't enough for you, huh? You don't care about her, you don't care about any of us...all you care about is that little fucking thing between your legs. I oughta call CPS…"

Her words cut off when his palm crashed hard into her face; stars filled her vision and her head whipped to one side. Her hand lifted to her cheek, and she winced when her fingers pressed against it. Dad watched her with murderous intent, his face darker than she had ever seen it. In that moment, he looked evil...and in that moment, she was honestly afraid of him, her little heart slamming and her spine tingling.

Something warm and wet trickled onto her upper lip. She touched her nose, and her fingertips came away bloody.

She looked at him, and her hatred became total...eternal. "Get out of my room." she hissed, "pedophile."

Dad balled his fist, and she thought he was going to kill her...literally kill her. Instead, he got to his feet, crossed the room, and ripped the door open. He spared her one last soul withering glance, then went out and slammed the door so hard behind him that it shook in its frame.

Alone, Lupa stared down at her lap…

...and began to cry.

Leia got home at half past three, took her backpack off, and hung it from the coat rack. She closed the door behind her and turned the thumblock just as a peal of thunder rolled across the leaden sky. She stood back and crossed her arms, waiting with a smug smile on her face. Any time now, any time now, any…

The knob rattled.

Ah, there she is. Leia expected her to take longer.

Knock-knock-knock.

Leia leaned forward, her face inches from the door. "We don't want any. Go away."

"Let me in!" Lizy cried.

Every afternoon, Leia walked home from school and cut through Wayside Park. Today, she was crossing the green expanse when someone called her name. She turned, and yuck, aunt Leni was by the swings with Lizy. Putting on a fake smile, Leia went over. "Hey," aunt Leni said.

"Hey," Leia said. Her eyes went to her stupid, ugly sister; she sat motionless on the swing and stared down at her feet. Good, she learned her lesson: They had it out that morning because Leia was sick of seeing that blind, milky eye looking at her. It was gross and creepy.

"Can Lizy walk home with you?" Leni asked, "I, like, have someone - I mean something - to do." She flashed a nervous smile and her cheeks burned pink. Lizy's head whipped up and she looked at her aunt with something like fear...and pleading.

Leia fought really hard to keep from rolling her eyes. "Sure," she said sweetly, "I love spending time with my little sister." She snatched Lizy's hand and dragged her off the swing. When aunt Leni was out of earshot, she let go and blotted her hand on her skirt. "Don't talk, don't touch me, I'm pretending you were stillborn. Alright, One Eye?"

Lizy simply nodded.

Two blocks from home, thunder rumbled in the distance, and Lizy froze in her tracks. She was terrified of thunder.

Leia's lips spread in a shark-like smile.

Another peal sounded, and Lizy instinctively drew close to her older sister for protection; Leia shoved her to the ground. Lizy's bare knee scraped against the rough concrete and she howled.

"Bye," Leia said, and started to run.

Behind her, Lizy broke down crying. "WAIT!" she wailed.

Leia giggled madly.

"PLEASE DON'T LEAVE ME!" she screamed hysterically and got to her feet; blood coursed down her leg and stained the top of her sock. "LEIA, PLEASE!"

Presently, Lizy banged on the door. "Let me in, please!"

The fear in her voice made Leia's smile widen. She turned, threw a middle finger over her shoulder, and went upstairs, Lizy's frightened pounding and muffled crying following her like sweet music. In her room, she sat on the edge of the bed, pulled her shoes off, and got up.

She was hoping she could get Daddy to sleep in her bed tonight, but she didn't think she'd have much luck, he was too hung up on Lacy because she was pregnant. Oh, she's going through a rough time right now. Well...Leia didn't care what Lacy was going through, she only cared that she had to sleep alone at night because of her. Part of her wanted to kill Lacy right now and reclaim what was rightfully hers, but there was another part of her...a much bigger part...that wanted to wait, and she was seriously considering doing just that. She'd sit on her hands for a few months...then, when Lacy was big and fat, she'd strike: She could see herself now, a knife in her hand and a gleam in her eye. Lacy lay before her, terror stamped on her face. Oh, Leia would enjoy herself. She'd rip that stupid baby right out of her stomach, strangle it while Lacy wept and begged for its life, then make the bitch eat it. Bon appetit.

Is it strange that that made her horny?

In the bathroom, she pulled her panties down, sat on the toilet, and did her business as images of dead babies and dying thirteen-year-old girls danced through her head. When she was done, she wiped then went back into her room. She dropped onto her bed just as Lizy came in; she was wet from the rain and trembling like an ugly, one eyed dog. Her face was pale and bloodless and there was a haunted expression upon her face.

"Ew, who let you in?"

Lizy didn't reply. She went to her bed, climbed on, and buried her face in her pillow. She started to snivel, and Leia rolled her eyes. She should make her shut up, but she wanted to go downstairs and wait for Daddy anyway, so she got up and went out into the hall, passing Lyra on the way. The older girl hummed a tune and bobbed her head. "Hey, Lei," she said and Leia winced. Leia started to snap, but stopped. There was something about Lyra, something...different...something that Leia couldn't quite put her finger on.

Shrugging, she went down the stairs and dropped onto the couch next to her mother, who grinned down at her phone; she was blushing. Leia stole a peek at the screen and saw '...suck your tit as I finger your tight little pussy." Ew. What a slut.

At least she didn't have to compete with her too.

Leia crossed her arms and stared at the TV; she paid more attention to the front door than to the stupid news. She was just starting to get bored (guess I'll go pick on Lizy) when it opened and Dad came in. "Daddy!" Leia cried and jumped up. She went over to him and threw her arms around his leg. He ran his fingers through her hair and she shivered delightedly. She pulled away and looked up at him with big eyes. "Daddy, can we play? I really miss you."

He stared down at her for a moment, then smiled. "Sure." He picked her up and held her the way a groom would his bride. She threw her arms around his neck and placed a chaste kiss on his lips. "How was your day, Daddy?" she asked as he carried her up the stairs.

"Alright," he said in a tone that indicated it was anything but, "how was yours?"

"Okay."

In her room, he laid her on the bed and climbed on top of her. She spread her legs wide and kissed him, not so chasetly this time, her hands flattening against his chest. He laid his hand on her thigh and moved it slowly up her bare flesh, his light, deft touch sending tendrils of electricity into her core. She moaned into his mouth as he hooked his fingers into the waistband of her panties and pulled them down teasingly down.

Across the room, Lizy stared at the wall, her arms crossed, her knees drawn up, and tears standing in her eyes. Leia's voice, as it often did when her mind wasn't busied, echoed through her head. You're worthless...disgusting...do us a favor and die..

As her sister began to pant and her father moaned, Lizy's lips started to move. "I'm worthless," she muttered, "I'm disgusting…"