❂ Sequel to ❤ Stockholm Syndrome 🔫
!WARNING!
Contains:
❂ Violence
❂ Sexual Content
❂ Mild Use of Adult Language
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"What are you doing?"
Spinning around on my heels, I spot Vincent. His hands are d...
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It is late in the day and Vincent hasn't yet returned from his important meeting. The opportunity to investigate the room of interest is finally here and I won't let it go to waste. But then it occurs to me that the door to the attic is always locked. I'm only aware of one person with a key to that room, and that's the man that owns this house – but he's not here right now.
Sitting on the bed in my room, I think of how else I can get into the attic.
Is there anyone else in the house with a key? Hmm... I tap my chin and suddenly, Shelby's wrinkle-filled face pops into my head. She has a bunch of keys strapped to the belt around her waist. But how would I get it? They're always attached to her; I would have to get close enough and that would only make it obvious what I would be trying to do. Maybe I can convince Oliver to get the keys. I mean, he already suspects someone to be up in the attic, so he wouldn't have a problem with me trying to investigate.
Suddenly, a knock comes from the door.
"Hey, Meg, it's me, Oliver. Are you awake?" he asks.
"Come in," I say, rising from the bed. The door opens and Oliver enters, hands behind his back, contrition written all over his face.
Bringing my brows together, I frown at him. "You look upset," I verbalize my observation.
He sighs. "Look, I'm sorry about jumping to conclusions about Vincent earlier. If you're still mad at me, I understand. But I just wanted to let you know that I'm still pursuing him in an effort to find out who he's harbouring in the attic."
I give him a gentle smile. "It's okay, Oli. I'm not mad at you anymore. In fact," I say, patting him on the shoulder, "I have decided to do a bit of digging myself."
