Desperate times calls for Desperate measures

48.

After Roland left, Annabel sat and thought about all he had said.

What did he mean by she was the one he wanted?

The door opened and Sasha rushed in.

“You didn't go to work?” Annabel asked.

“How do you expect me to go to work when I no longer understand what the heck is going on with you? Where were you last night?” Sasha took a seat beside her on the couch.

“In Roland's house.” She sighed and ran her hands through her hair.

“I thought as much. What were you doing there or are you finally interested in him?” She questioned.

Annabel shook her head. “Of course not. I got drunk and found myself there.”

Sasha frowned. “Again? This is the second time it's happening. You aren't supposed to be drinking, Annabel. Stop it!” Sasha scolded her and placed her hand on her waist.

“I couldn't help it, Sasha,” tears rolled down her cheeks, making Sasha wonder what was wrong with her. Annabel hadn't told her that Roland found out who she was because she didn't know how and she didn't want Sasha to