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.

June pushed a door open, the office coming into view. Her eyebrows were furrowed when she looked around, but she soon realized that she was alone, the girl being able to breath a little easier at this revelation. Being caught was something she did not want to be.

She closed the door behind her, hurrying towards the filing cabinets that were tucked in both of the corners. She put the flashlight in her mouth as she pulled the drawers open, her fingers skating over the files. She looked for one that bore her name, knowing that speed was the object of the game. The faster she got this done the better. She searched through the first cabinet and came up empty, groaning as she closed the drawers and hurried towards the other one. She fixed her hat as she held the flashlight in between her teeth, her jaw hurting from the effort as she ransacked through the other cabinet. She stopped herself from trashing his office like how he had trashed her fathers, the girl trying her hardest not to do it. But she didn't want to be caught, she was relying on stealth rather than notoriety.

She groaned as she pushed the bottom drawer closed, her hands going to her head as she came up with nothing. She looked around the room, trying her hardest to find out where these pictures could be. Her eyes landed in the desk and she recounted his words from earlier.

Following you is personal.

The desk, his own personal space. She was far too intriguing to be in a filing cabinet...she belonged in the desk.

She shot towards the drawers of his desk, sitting in the chair and quickly opening the top right one. It was filled with supplies, her eyes scanning the entire drawer for something that could resemble things that could ruin her life. She searched through the entire desk, coming up empty again. 

Her eyes fell on the last drawer, one you had to unlock at the top, and her gut told her it was in there. She looked up from the side, her eyes falling on a fancy letter opener that was sitting on the corner of the desktop. She reached for it, starting in on the lock the best she could. She was starting to sweat the longer it took, the girl trying her hardest to pick the small lock. Her finger got a little too close to the blade and it cut into her skin, June grimacing as she brought her hand up to her mouth. She hissed in pain just as the lock was able to turn, the drawer being pulled open almost immeidately.

There it was, in all its glory, a hefty file that bore her last name. She smiled, the pain in her finger dissipating as she pulled the file out of the drawer. She was surprised she had accomplished something, the girl not having very much faith in herself at the beginning. She moved to put the file in the bag but she was bent with overwhelming curiosity, she wanted to know what exactly it was that he had on her.

Her fingers brushed against the front of the folder and she pulled it open, the girl blinking as she took in the image. There was a cover page, a short description of what he had been hired to do and who had hired him. She flipped past that, the first picture making her eyes widen.

"What the fuck." It was a picture of her standing on the steps of the auction, Rafes hands on her as they waited for the car. She looked soft and saw about 5-6 more of them getting into the car, then driving away. Past those pictures were ones of her entering Tannyhill, her stomach dropping when she saw pictures of her getting ready in Sarah's room. You could tell the position Hardy was in was from the ground in the bushes, her blood running cold as a picture of her nearly fully undressed was passed by. She gulped as she proceeded on, pictures of her in Barbados, pictures of the Coastal Venture, many things that alluded to her. She looked at another set of photos and she stopped breathing for a moment, her eyes widening as she realized what this was.

A picture of Ward Cameron in Guadeloupe, the clearest picture you could possibly see to prove that it was him. This was a feat, considering the fact that the man was dead on paper. This could do terrible things to the Camerons. She continued on, her mouth going dry when she saw pictures of her at the bonfire, pictures of her in Nassau, a multitude of others that shouldn't have been taken. Singh really was everywhere.

She pushed a photo of her in Nassau away, a gasp leaving her lips as she looked down at the photo. It was a picture of the man she had pushed from the truck, then a picture of Renfield, then a picture of Peterkin. All dead. She lingered on the photo of Peterkin for a moment, feeling tears prick at her eyes as she looked down at it. That was where it had all went wrong.

Her heart stopped and she froze when she saw the next photo, the girl unable to blink as she picked it up off of the desk. She lifted her hand to her mouth as she looked at the picture in shock, unable to believe what she was seeing.

The picture was blurry and not too clear, like it and come from a security camera. It was Rafe Cameron, holding the gun up to Sheriff Peterkin. There was no way.

She looked down at the desk, a sick feeling coming to her stomach as she looked at the pile of photos, some of them dating back to before she had even ran with the Pogues. Singh had been watching her for longer than she had known. She would agree that there were in fact a slew of incriminating photos, but if anyone should be worried, it needed to be Rafe.

She finally decided to close the file, pushing the contents of it into her backpack and securing it. She looked around the office, making sure that every inch of it was left the way it had been, her head spinning with new information as she as she walked towards the door. Proof that Rafe was the bad guy, proof that he had done it.

She opened the office door and was immediately met with a shocking discovery, her eyes widening and her heart stopping as it sank to her feet.

Leon Hardy stood in front of her, a shocked expression on his own face. Her eyes darted to the large knife he had in his hand and she now realized why the building was two stories. He lived upstairs. Her breath caught in her throat and she engaged her fight or flight, the man speaking as she geared up to choose.

"Now I didn't expect this."