"What are you doing here, father?" Allison questioned Mr. Quinn, her father, who seemed to not be able to sit properly on the couch without fidgeting.
"Allison," the middle-aged man rushed to his feet when he saw her. "Allison, you need to help me."
Allison directed her gaze towards her mother and sister. "Why did you let him into the house, Mother? You of all people should know this man doesn't belong here after everything he'd done," she questioned.
Mr. Quinn, a man in his late forties, had a beard so unkept one would think he was coming from the jungle. His clothes were stained with mud Allison had no idea where he got it from. Either way, she didn't care because she didn't want to know.
All she wanted was for him to be out of her house.
"Allison, dear, he's your father," Mrs. Quinn, reminded.
"I don't care," she bit out.