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Sofie Olsen Bergen was born on the 3rd of January of 2000, in the main hospital of Philadelphia.

During Marianne's pregnancy, nothing could've indicated what they were about to experience after birth. Sofie came into the world, opened her eyes, cried, the umbilical cord was cut, and before she could be put into Marianne's arms, before her father, present in the room, could hug her tight, her throat began collapsing.

The nurses and doctors immediately took her away. It took one week for Erik and Marianne to see her for the first time, at a safe distance. The doctors warned them not to get too attached. For over two weeks, she stayed in intensive care. Her body was attacking itself, and no one could understand why. An unknown autoimmune disease, they ended up realizing.

Once she stabilized, that was good enough to send her to her parents, with the warning that her immune system was hyperactive and that even immunosuppressants weren't doing anything to it.

Erik and Marianne kept a close eye on her for years, protecting her from the outside world. But all the care didn't prevent her from collapsing on her bedroom's floor in November 2004. Her lungs, heart, and liver needed the machines to function. She fell into a state of almost comatose.

It took her almost three years, on her birthday, the 3rd of January of 2007, for Sofie to finally regain consciousness. For her blue eyes to see the world again. For her to see her big sister for the first time.

She wouldn't say it, but coming back from the death, like she did, wasn't without consequences. Sofie was haunted by death. She grabbed the knife at breakfast to put her jam on her slice of bread, and she'd see herself cutting her wrists with it. Unconsciously she'd tap two times her two fingers, index and middle, from her right hand and that'd bring her some comfort.

When she visited the lake with her family, she'd see herself drowning in it, she'd tap her fingers and look away. They'd take her to a bridge to see the view, to a skyscraper, and she'd see herself jumping off of it, she'd tap her fingers and shake her head. She'd be in Marianne's car and she'd see the car hitting a wall only on her side, she'd tap her fingers. She'd see the trains passing by and she'd see herself jumping in front of it. She'd tap her fingers.

She was still ten years old, when she made peace with death, she didn't want to die, but if she saw herself over and over dying, committing suicide too, then that must have meant she wanted it deep down. Wanted it all to be over.

She was thirteen years old when Marianne comes back alone. M, stop hiding. Megan was nowhere to be found. Marianne didn't have to utter a word. When Erik died, her face had the same look. Megan was dead. She runs back upstairs, shuts the curtains, turns off every light of Megan's room, and lies in her bed.

She's on her computer on the next morning when she sees the video of Megan destroying the Ariston community. Her father's white hoodie. She recognizes it immediately. M... you wouldn't do this. Sofie holds her sister's clothes tighter than before.

At least with her father there was a funeral, but not for Megan, and the worse of it all is that Marianne refuses to talk about her. Refuses to answer the few questions Sofie has. How she died, which Sofie knows already, but wants to hear it from Marianne.

So Sofie stops talking altogether. She only answers her tutors by writing and won't even speak to Marianne.

Marianne is having breakfast, a black coffee, when Sofie comes by. It's been a week since Megan died. Sofie writes in a piece of paper and hands it over to her mother.

"I want to have kung fu lessons and learn how to shoot, there's a shooting range 15 minutes away and a kung fu studio 10 walking. I need you to pay for it," Marianne reads it out loud and looks at her daughter, "seems like you have it all figured out, Sofie, but aren't you forgetting a tiny detail?"

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