A young pale woman, perhaps in her mid-20's, with long black hair and dark gothic make-up came down the stairs ... but what shocked her the most was what she was wearing.
"Are you wearing my daughter's clothing?! Who are you?!" Laura yelled, wanting answers.
"I have absolutely no idea. I was on my way to work and suddenly...I was here...wearing this stuff. I was trying to get the fuck out of here before someone arrested me."
Laura flinched at the profanity. "The same thing just happened to me."
"You don't normally wear that?"
"No...I changed into something before I came home."
"This makes no sense," Agatha said. "What do you think happened?"
"I'm not sure...but this reeks of possession."
Agatha raised an eyebrow at her, misunderstanding Laura. "I'm sorry...when did your daughter pass," she said, sincerely. She was not an expert on the occult, but she did believe in it.
"She's not dead."
"Then what do you think possessed me and made me put on her clothes? You are one of those religious types who thinks everything you don't like is the devil's doing, aren't you? Look...just because something doesn't match your worldview, doesn't mean it's evil. Even though I'd really like to know what's going on, I'm going to get the hell," she emphasized the word, "out of your house...I'd offer to return these clothes, but I think I'm better off just burning them."
She headed out, muttering to herself. She drank, but she wasn't a heavy drug user. If she had to black out...why'd she have to end up in some prude's house? This was exactly the sort of woman who protested her opening her club....a place where people who were different would feel accepted instead of judged.
Meanwhile, Laura's husband escorted Tiffany into his pastor's office, his hand firmly on her arm.
