forty.

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11:49 pm.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" The voice belonged to Zach Roberts, the getaway driver.

"I have no choice." This voice belonged to June March, the burglar.

"Okay. Fuck! Listen you have to text me if something goes wrong okay?" Zach said, a look of worry on his face as he looked from the building to June. There had been no movement for hours, not a singular moment where it seemed as if anyone were inside. Junes eyes shifted from the building to Zach and she narrowed her eyes, her lips pursing as she looked at him.

"I...left my phone in my room." Zach let out an exasperated gasp, throwing his head back against his headrest and looking at her once again like she was the biggest idiot on the planet.

"How do you—why would you forget your phone?"

"The police can't track it if it looks like I'm at home." That look again. He leaned towards her, shaking his head at her words

"The police aren't going to track shit, because what did we agree?"

"If something looks suspicious we leave. No police." She repeated the words he had drilled into her head, a determined look on her face as she looked past him and to the office again. Zach breathed deeply a few times, questioning everything about himself as he looked at her.

"It's time." He said, grabbing her hat from the bag and handing it to her. June pulled the hat on, the full black outfit she was wearing  being a strange contrast to what she usually wore. She nodded, her nerves bubbling in her stomach as she opened the car door. Zach watched her warily as she  grabbed the backpack that had everything she could possibly need in it, the girl pulling it onto her back. She gave him a nervous smile, closing his truck door and then looking around. Luckily his office was not on a busy street, the small two story building seemingly only housing his P.I.  practice. June snuck across the street, her eyes scouring the road and the houses and buildings surrounding the one she was going towards,her paranoia at an all time high. Anytime she had done a breaking and entering it was with someone else, this was a new thing for her, going solo.

Zach had told her that she should try the windows first, windows, back door and then worst case scenario...front door. June approached the front of the office, her eyes wide and frantic as she read the letters printed on the front. June went to the side of the building, started at the first window. She pushed it, trying to see if it was unlocked and would just open. However she had no luck there, the girl moving on to the next window. No luck.

She attempted on four other windows but to no avail, her stomach dropped as she realized she would have to try her hand at lock picking. She snuck towards the back door, taking the backpack off so that she could get to the necessary supplies inside.  During the time that she had spent waiting for night she had watched a few YouTube videos about picking locks on Zachs phone, the boy trying to demonstrate it to her himself but June not catching on. The YouTube videos had laid out multiple instructions, the girl cursing herself as she tried to remember what to do.

It took her a good 15 minutes to actually jimmy the  lock, a breath of shock leaving her lips as she stared down at the knob.  She turned it, pushing the door open and standing in the doorway.

This was the actual illegal part, the girl looking over her shoulder just to make sure that no one was behind her. She figured that doing this alone amplified the  paranoia, her eyes wide as she swallowed the lump in her throat and actually got inside. She pulled the flashlight from the side of the bag, clicking it on and starting down the hall. The building was old, the wooden floors threatening to freak with every step. She took careful steps, her breaths eerily quiet as she walked through the hall. While there had been no movement reported since noon, that didn't mean anything. June could think back to days when she would lay in her bed during the summer and never move, from the time she woke up to the time she went to bed, only going to the bathroom. So who's to say that he wasn't sitting in his desk chair, having worked all day and all night and was still inside. She had to be vigilant.

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