You look to the door and see your sister.
"Mlle. Proust," Your sister says, "Aren't you supposed to be in teachers restroom?"
"Uh..." You say at a loss for words.
"It don't care," She interjects, "Mademoiselle, can you help me? I don't know how I got here. I was at home, then I was at school... Mademoiselle, I feel odd."
Your sister places her hand on her groin as if to search for something.
Seeing the state of the girl in front you, you feel a rush of both attraction and pity. While you know you hate this dirty slut, you know fully well you've put her in this situation.
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