Young Cassandra may be heir to the vast Goth fortune, but she's the unhappiest little girl in SimVille.

    "Oh Grandpa, I miss you so much! Everything's gone wrong since your unexpected and mysterious death. Mommy and Daddy fight all the time! All Grandma cares about is the family business. And because I'm the richest kid in town all the other kids won't play with me."

    "Cassandra, what are you doing out here in the graveyard again!? How many times have I told you it's morbid behavior? What if the neighbors saw you out here? What would they think?"
 
    "I don't care! I don't care what anybody else thinks! I want my Grandpa!"

    "Well you're not going to get your Grandpa. He's dead, Cassandra. He's never coming back. You need to learn to let go of him. Look at me. He was my father, after all, and you don't see me out here crying over his headstone all the time. Now stop this nonsense and come eat your breakfast before the food gets cold."

    "I found her in the family graveyard again," Mortimer growled around a mouthful of egg. "I'm tired of this, Bella. I thought I made it clear she's to stop going out there. You need to keep a closer watch on her."

    "I can't keep an eye on her twenty-four hours a day, Mortimer. She's ten-years-old, she has a mind of her own."

    "Please stop talking about me as if I wasn't here," Cassandra pleaded, but her parents once again ignored her.

    "It's not healthy," Mortimer continued. "No wonder she doesn't have any friends. Who wants to play with a weirdo that lurks around cemetaries?"

    Cassandra threw down her fork and lept violently away from the table. "I am not a weirdo! I hate you! I hate you!" Just then the school bus honked its horn signaling its arrival. Cassandra was thankful that now she had an escape from her miserable home life.

    Bella got up in her husband's sneering face. "Why do you have to be so cruel to the child? Did you ever stop to think that maybe she stays out there so much is because it's better than having to put up with you?"

    "What makes you think you're the better parent," he shot back. "You're hardly here anymore. I'm tired of coming home from the office at night to find no dinner on the table."

    "Is that all you can think of, dinner?"

    "It's all you had better think about tonight. I'm bringing home some important business people and I expect you to play the hostess."

    "Guests tonight?! But Mortimer, you're not giving me enough notice! I have so much to do today. There's Cassandra's soccer practice, I need to stop by the drycleaners, and as president of the SimVille Welcoming Committee I'm supposed to greet the newest family in the neighborhood."

    "Cancel, cancel, and cancel. You will be home tonight, this house will be spotless, and you will make our daughter behave like a normal human being. Oh, and one other thing: Mother will be here tonight as well so try and make yourself presentable. Now I'd better get going or I'll be late to the office."

    But instead of going to the office as he had told his wife he was doing, Mortimer instead makes an unexpected stop at SimVille Medical Center.

    "Dr. Amore, I have a rather delicate and private matter I'd like to discuss with you."
 
    "Anything we talk about in this office will be held in the strictest of doctor/patient confidentiality," Amore assured him.

    "Good. What I wanted to talk to you about was having a DNA test done."
 
    Dr. Amore's cocked one handsome eyebrow in surprise. "A DNA test?"

    "Yes, on Cassandra. You see, I'm having doubts that Cassandra truly is my daughter."