*Sitting on the floor, she stared at the photo album. The picture perfect shots of the perfect adopted daughter, the perfect future wife of a Chase. She had been in a prison, not quite content but happy. She had been grateful for them taking her off the streets of Boston, for giving her a home, a family but after Quentin's death and then Cam's, it had all crumbled. She slammed the book closed. The humans were putting her in a box again. Feeling closed in all of a sudden, she pushed the book under the couch and out of sight then headed to the closet. She needed to hit something and throwing her blades was a perfect escape.*
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