#Chapter Twenty
She looked behind her shoulder again. She had no idea why she was so scared. She knew her mother had gone out with her friends to have drinks and usually when that happened, she only returned home after midnight. She let out a pent-up exhale and inserted the picks into the lock.
Here goes nothing.
She raked the lock, pushing and pulling blindly. She did the action for about three minutes before she finally gave up. Raking wasn't working, clearly. She set the rake down and pressed her ear against the door. Picking up a normal lock pick, she inserted it into the lock and tried to feel her way around. As she dragged the pick down the pins, she clearly counted the amount of pins that moved.
Applying pressure on the other tool, she used the pick to slowly push the pins up until she felt the cylinder giving slightly. Slowly pushing the rest of the pins into place, the cylinder turned more and more until finally the lock gave way with a loud snap and satisfying release of tension on the tools.
At last!
She pushed the door inwards and almost ran into the room. The office was well-kept and tidy, as it always was. Glancing at every corner of the room, she saw heaps and heaps of books with titles she did not understand. She walked over to the desk and sat on her father's chair. Pulling out some drawers, she closed them quickly after realising it was paperwork and other office supplies until she found a drawer that was locked.
She picked the lock on that drawer and within seconds, it opened after a quick rake. She practiced her skills for weeks and now, she was confident that she could pick most simple locks. She opened the drawer, and saw a manila folder inside. Taking it out, she set it on the desk.
She flipped it open, and found a picture of her father with a young girl. His hand was around her shoulders and she could explain the look they had in their eyes as they stared at each other from miles away. It was pure lust and it reminded her of Gunner. Under the mass of photos, she found a student profile sitting underneath. She removed it. It was a profile of the girl in the photo.
Melanie Evans.
That was her real name. She fired up the computer on her father's desk and launched Instagram. She keyed her full name in and after clicking into some profiles, she found her page. When she looked through the pictures, horror set in as she uncovered something shocking.
Melanie was Becky's best friend.