Her streak of vengeance didn't start on a whim. It wasn't a gradual thing, slowly escalating.

When she was three, she killed the cat who dug up her favorite flowers. Cut the animal's throat, if you must know. When she was five, and a dog peed on her, she attacked. The dog held onto her arm with all of his strength, tearing into her flesh. When laying on a hospital bed, seething in anger, she learned. Attacking a dog wasn't simple-- it's jaw was too strong. She had to find another way to attack. She had to move unexpected, using her childish cuteness in the presence of adults to her advantage.

As she grew into a beautiful woman, she learned that indirect ploys were best. Deceit. Vengeance was a thing never too far out of reach. Justice for the girl who would receive no justice otherwise. Revenge for anything that was done.

In that, and that alone, she found satisfaction. In that alone, she felt a few moments of freedom. Maybe even happiness. 

With a beautiful sister comes great responsibility. And Adam Hazelgrove must admit-- he'd done a pretty good job. Silently intimidating those who might be looking for an easy pass, he'd protected his rather innocent sister from what would have been disasterous pain.

Now, she'd soon be settling down with a good guy. A responsible man who'd earned her love, and the respect of the Hazelgrove men. A guy who was willing to marry Adam's sister, even with the leukemia that now threatened to shake her life, 

She needed him now. Even the protective Adam knew that.