Evil

It all started one day when I was rummaging through the attic. I found this picture. It had two little girls holding hands. I could tell there was a third little girl, but her picture had been ripped off. I went downstairs to ask my mom about it. She turned pale and snatched the picture from me. "It's only Aunt Millie and I," she snapped. "Who's the third girl?" I asked. But mom said nothing. I decided to ask Aunt Millie. Now HER information was useful.
"The third girl was our sister Rebecca," she said. "Did Mom hate Rebecca or something? What happened to her?" I asked. "One day, Rebecca went missing," Aunt Millie said. "Someone had kidnapped her. We put signs up everywhere, but she was never found. Then we got a call from the police. They said they found Rebecca's body. It was on the side of the road, and she was dead. Freshly dead, though. Your mother hated herself forever. She said that if we'd looked harder, we would've found her before she died. But that never could've happened."