𝗣𝗥𝗢𝗠 𝗤𝗨𝗘𝗘𝗡, 𝙅. 𝙈𝙖𝙮𝙗𝙖𝙣𝙠.

𝟬𝟭𝟯 cherry blossom scented bodies

"You didn't wanna go home." She shrugged her shoulders in response, flattening the wrinkles on her oversized t-shirt that went just the slightest bit past her thighs, covering the black, skin-tight shorts she was wearing beneath.

"Yeah, well, thanks." He gave her a courteous nod and in exchange, she offered a small smile. "I have a shift in like less than an hour, so . . ."

"You wanna shower before you go?" She found herself offering him before she could process what she was saying. She knew that he'd never make it back home on foot on time and still manage to make it to the club. "We have hot water."

"Are you assuming that the Maybank household doesn't have hot water?" JJ feigned offense yet again, his brow raised upward as he turned to face her.

"Does it?" Annabelle placed both hands on her hips, unable to tell whether he was considering her offer or not.

"No, dad's too cheap to buy a boiler." He sucked air in through his teeth, pausing for a minute. "I'll take you up on that offer, though."

Annabelle brushed her fingers through her knotted hair, biting down on her bottom lip. "I don't have any fresh clothes you can change into, but I can offer you a towel."

"It's cool. I carry extra." JJ motioned towards his backpack to assure her that he had a fresh pit of clothes lying inside. Considering how little time he spent at his own house, he'd learned to think ahead.

"Alright then. The bathroom's right there and I'll go get you a towel." Annabelle pointed a finger at her freakishly humongous bathroom that connected to her bedroom, receiving a nod in return to which she didn't respond. Instead, she made her way out of her bedroom while JJ made his way into the bathroom.

Shutting the door behind her, she began to make her way towards the laundry room to retrieve a clean towel, her eyes wandering the hallway until they landed on one of the many wooden doors. She looked around, assuring herself that no one was watching her and when she was certain that no one was looking, she crept towards her mother's office. When she was standing outside, she gripped the doorknob, turning it slightly as she pushed the door open. She stood behind the threshold for a few seconds, her eyes set on the steel safe box behind the polished desk.

It took every ounce of strength inside of her to step foot into the space, quickly growing paranoid that she'd end up getting caught despite Sandra being miles away from her on the mainland. Quite frankly, she felt that she didn't owe that woman an ounce of respect after she had treated her like a human punch bag all these years, allowing her to live under there impression that she was her birth mother when that wasn't the case. She hated her. She freaking hated her for all the irreversible damage she'd caused her just because of who her real mother was.

It wasn't Annabelle's fault and yet she felt like she was to blame somehow. Maybe it had to do with Sandra's manipulative tactics that had been used on her these past sixteen years. Whatever it was, she couldn't shake off the conversation from yesterday about her biological mother being related to her adoptive mother and the fact that this woman supposedly hadn't been seen since giving birth.

She knew that if there was anything to know about this mystery woman, Sandra would definitely know about it. Though it probably wouldn't be hidden away in a safe, but it couldn't hurt to search for something—anything, really.

Brushing off the paranoia that threatened to engulf her, Annabelle walked towards the safe behind the desk, crouching down so that her eyes were leveled with the keypad where she punched in the six digits that were Athena's birthday. All she could do was roll her eyes when she heard the lock click, her arm reaching out to pull the heavy door open in order to reveal important documents and other valuable items that Sandra stored inside.