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*note from the author: wow...been a while since i last updated this story, hasn't it...well here we go with part 10...enjoy.*

[Renae's POV]
I watched a Rachael struggled with her shirt. Then she mumbled, "er...um...R-renae?". "Yeah?" I replied. "Could you help me with this?" she asked, obviously embarrassed to have to ask for help. I walked over and helped her undress. "I wonder how much trouble she must have when she needs to shower if it's this bad," I mused to myself, then let out a gasp of horror. Her body was so badly bruised and mangled, it made me sick to my stomach. I circled her a couple of times, surveying just how bad the damage was. "I think I'm going to be sick..." I mumbled quietly, hoping she didn't hear it. "Why didn't you tell someone before it got this bad?!" I asked her, hearing the shock and terror i felt echoing in the tone of my voice. "I told you," she answered, "I don't want anyone's pity." "Pity?" I asked, incredulous. "Pity?! Rachael...you need help...you need to talk to someone about this." She rolled her eyes as she redressed. "I told you! There you go with the pity act! I knew it! I knew I shouldn't have shown you!" she almost shrieked. I smacked her across the face. Not hard enough to hurt her, but enough to knock a little sense into her. Then grabbed her shoulders. "Listen to me, Rachael. Child abuse is a crime. You're letting your father get away with it by not telling someone! If you don't tell, I will." "But you promised--" "I know. But I wouldn't have had I have known it would be this bad! Rachael.." "Enough! I'm not telling. And neither are you!!" "Try and stop me," I challenged. I watched as she cringed away from me, as if regretting having told me anything. "Please. Please, I'm begging you...don't tell anyone. Please, Renae!!" she pleaded, tears beginning to form in her eyes. "I can't promise you I won't. But, seriously, Rachael. You need to. You deserve better than this..." I let my voice trail off as I let go of her shoulders and walked to the door. Just as I opened it, 'Jason' walked up. "Rachael!!" he barked. "Yes?" she squeaked out, fear evident in her tone. "I'm leaving. You are to stay here tonight." "Why?" she asked. "Because I ******** said so. I don't want you around the house tonight. You'll just get in my way and annoy me. So you're staying here. Understood?!" She only nodded as he turned and walked away. I watched him as he left. "If you must know, he's going to be partying tonight. Possibly hooking up with another random airheaded slut." I heard Rachael mumble. I turned to look at her, noting the look of fear I'd seen only moments ago was replaced with a mask of indifference now. "Why?" I muttered. "What?" she asked. "Why?" I repeated, louder this time. "Why what?" she pressed. "Why the hell do you put up with that?!" I yelled. "Why?!?" "I don't know!!" she yelled back, sinking to the floor, onto her knees. "I don't know, Ren..." she trailed off, sobbing quietly. I stared at her. This girl. She seemed so strong when I met her. So...what's the word...invulnerable. But now, I see. I see the troubled, broken, fragile girl she really is. The girl she hid from the world. The real Rachael. I immediately regretted having shouted at her, though I had no idea what to do or say to make things better now. "Rachael..." I began. She didn't look up. She just continued to sit there, her head buried in her arms, crying. "Rachael...I'm sorry," I continued. "I didn't mean to upset you..." I didn't say anything more and walked out of the room, letting her have some time to herself. I stayed by the door for a few minutes. Then, letting out a quiet sigh, I went to my mom's old storage room. I had once seen a book with the title 'Family' on it. I looked for it on the shelf then pulled it down. It didn't look like much. Just your average burgundy book, with the word 'family' engraved into the front of it in gold. I sat on the floor and began flipping through the pages. It was a scrapbook of sorts. The first few pages were of my mom and 'Jason' from back when they were dating. Pictures, old love letters, and other mementos from their relationship decorated each page. Then there was a page with only a picture of them and two baby girls. The caption underneath it read 'Jason, me, and our beautiful girls'. The babies in the picture, I then realized, were Rachael and me. The rest of the book after that point was blank. As I went to close the book, an envelope fell out of it, landing on the floor, backside up. I picked it up and turned it over in my hands, trying to find a name or something to identify the owner. 'Rachael and Renae' were the names I found written on it. Under the names, the words 'Do not open until your 16th birthdays' was scribbled in an almost calligraphy-styled writing. I tucked it back into the book, placing the book back where I found it, and began making my way back to our room to check on Rachael.