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Marie writes...

Ah, my mother... her name was Dahlia Allard. She was a very successful woman. She's responsible for the Lambert family fortune... let me think.

Dahlia was a doctor, just like me. She worked in a hospital in Paris. She met my father when he had an accident while working a mine in the Nord-Pas-de-Calais basin... They fell for each other very quickly, and I ended up coming into the picture before they had even married.

My mother raised me to be a doctor like her. My people skills were a bit better than hers, so I made good connections when I was very young.

Dahlia stuck to her vows of never devouring her patients, but she certainly wasn't a saint. If a lady looked at my father the wrong way, they'd end up... I'm sure you know where. I developed my enjoyment of prey elsewhere, though. In college. At a party.

I'll include a photograph I kept from her with this letter.