Resisting the urge to break the rules, you instead go through the intended door and find yourself in a well lit room once more. In the center of it, you see a woman you don't recognize strapped to a chair. Above her is what looks like some kind of pipe that opens up over her head. She begins to struggle and cry once she sees you, but with the gag in her mouth you can't make out anything she is saying. Begging for help if you have to make a guess.

There is no television in this room, instead, a table covered in binders and manilla folders is off to the side. There is no tape to give you instructions either, instead, it seems you have to do your own detective work and go through the various bits of information. Walking over to the table, you look down at all the different stacks of binders and folders.

Picking up one folder you are surprised to find that it contains several forms going over case information from the time CPS was investigating your parents after teachers at your school grew concerned over your change in behavior after your stepfather began to pay you late night visits as a child.

Skim reading the papers, you see details of why they were investigating. Unusual behavior at school on your part. You had apparently informed a teacher that your privates hurt after a game with your stepfather the previous night. It turns your stomach to even think about it. You had been so young when that started. You never really had a chance.

Flipping through the papers, you find the notes from the CPS investigation. There was nothing but glowing notes on what good parents you had, how clean the house was, and so on and so forth. Confusion fills your mind as you think back to your childhood. The house had never been particularly organized or clean, you had your stepfather visiting you at night and your mother ignoring it, not to mention she also blamed you as some kind of kid sized seductress. How had none of that been seen and noted?

You open one of the binders and find some photographs. Most are of you as a little girl right before your mom had remarried. You look so happy in those pictures. Just a regular little girl with a big grin, not a care in the world. Then as you flip further back you find yourself staring at a little girl with dead eyes and no joy to her expression, flanked by your stepfather in every picture. It makes you feel sick to your stomach to see the way he looks at you in some of the pictures, how his hand is often possessively gripping your shoulder.

As you continue to look through the items on the table, you come across what looks like some kind of badge. You recognize the woman's face as the same one you're now in a room with. She works for CPS and according to the name on the badge, she's the same one that filled out the paperwork with the glowing reviews of your family...

You say Nothing

You look at the woman, Monica according to the badge you found, and try to remember her from when you were just a kid. Vaguely you do remember her. A stranger you didn't know who was there to talk to you and your family a few times. Her presence had made your parents nervous, your stepfather was angry that she was there at all. The night before she visited for the last time, he had come to your room and the game he wanted to play was rougher than usual.

"You don't talk to her. You tell her you love your parents and that we treat you nice. You don't tell her about our playtime after bed. Or we'll play a new game and you won't like it at all," your stepfather's voice had been cruel as he whispered the threat into your ear that night.

The next day, you had done exactly as he said. It hurt to sit down and talk to her, so you had shifted back and forth to try to find a sitting position that didn't make you feel sore. She had attributed it to you being a hyperactive child and nothing else. You don't remember what all she asked of you, only that you didn't tell the truth for them. Your stepfather was scarier and than some stranger, you didn't know anything about after all.

But, she was a professional. Monica should have seen through all of that. It was her job to save children. But, she hadn't saved you. She left you there with your stepfather and his fucked up games. He got bold after that. Every night for years he had come into your room until you were finally old enough in your teens to spend most of your nights couch surfing at friend's houses. It was better to be arrested for sneaking out of the house and loitering somewhere at night than to have to play another one of that monster's games.

Maybe she did deserve this.