The front door was already open when she approached it and there was a letter on the dining room table.

The sheet was highlighted from the mahogany table; it glared at her. When Emma was steps away from her table, a familiar smell wafted to her nose, but she could not quite pick it. It smelled of cigarettes and cheap perfume. A dreadful smell . Emma began to read.

“Emma
By now you know your photos are gone. Consider this my own form of punishment. You may ask what you are being punished for; think what have you done to me. What did you do to make my life hard. You would look at me with judgemental eyes as you sat on the table this letter was placed on. You would scream and yelp. All I tried to do was make you a better person, a person your father could love, a person who deserves to be loved.
However you do not deserve to be loved or love anything and this is why your photos are gone. These are the only things you ever loved, perhaps you will follow the things I have tried to tell you.
-Mary�