I breath out in relief when I pass by the guards without any problems.

The guard that opened the gate the other day is the same one that opened it today.

I just had to tell him my name and what I am here for. But unlike the other day he just opened the gate for me without telling me to wait.

It creepied me out when I was passing the guards on my way to the house. I have never seen so many guards; not even at the supreme jail.

The way they were lined up, with guns in the air kind of scared me. I do not think I will get used to them, but maybe I will.

I pack at the same spot I packed at yesterday, among the very big and expensive cars.

My car looks like a baby among the many cars. It is crazy how someone can own these many cars.

I slowly get my purse, and backpack from the backseat. My thoughts go back to my parents when I see the suitcase.

I can feel my heartbeat picking up when I think about my parents, I wonder if they were right. Will I regret doing this?

I shake my head at the thought. I will make them proud. I know that they had my best interest at heart, but sometimes what people think is the best for someone is the complete opposite.

You can not always force someone to hide behind you. People need to grow sometimes. Sooner or later, the person that is always hidden from the world will have to spread his or her wings.

It is better you hurt your wings flying, then staying at the same spot with perfectly good wings and no experience of the world. You will end up running when you see the real world.

I wait for my heartbeat to steady before I leave the car. I nervously walk up the steps and towards the big doors.

The police men and women, two of each gender, look at me with their guns in the air.

I feel anxious, scared that they will shoot at me if I do something wrong.

I decide to ignore them for now, my eyes looking ahead of me.

I finally reach the doorstep, sighing in relief when I see the door being opened by a guard.

But before I can enter, I see both police women come infront of me.

I curiously look at them, their faces expressionless.

"We can't let you in without searching you," The guard that opened the door says with no emotion in his eyes and voice.

I want to argue with him, to fight with them all. But I give in, not wanting to cause a scene, and I understand that it is their job.

One of the women gets my bag, searching through it while the other police woman does a police frisk.

I patiently wait for them to give me a go ahead. I thank them when they tell me to enter the house.

My thoughts are all over the place as I enter the living room. My nerves come full force when I realize that I am closer to Diego.

Thinking about him makes me feel like a teenager, it makes me feel all giddy and childlike.

I take a seat on the beautiful white sofa, sighing in relief when my buttocks meet the comfort of the sofa.

I get my phone from my purse, ready to tell Hunter that I have arrived. I go through my call log, pressing on his line.

But I get no response, I try several times but I keep going to his voicemail.

Irritation fills my body not knowing what to do. This is not my home, I can not do anything without getting permission.

So I wait, I wait to see if anyone will come passing through the living room.

And I am glad when I see a lady, she is in a uniform of some sort. I wave her over after calling out to her.

I stand up when she walks towards me, plastering a little smile on my face.

"Hi," I say to her. I do not want to seem rude to her, and I hope my smile will not creep her out.

"Hello, Ms...."

"Rowland. I am Siara Rowland," I tell her my name, feeling happy when she smiles at me. I look at the name tag that is attached to her dress. Her name tag says Julia. "Do you know where Mr Martino and Hunter are?" I ask.

The lady nods at me, her smile still intact.

"Mr Martino is in the kitchen, I saw him there a few seconds ago. I do not know about Mr Gomez's whereabouts, though," Julia states.

"Thank you, Julia." I murmur in her direction. Julia nods at me walking away.

I gather my things, walking out of the living room and towards the kitchen.

Hunter and I's conversation comes to mind, I feel motivated whenever I think about Diego's life.

His past is one of the reasons why I am helping him, his mental health being the second. I want Diego to heal and I believe that this will somehow help him.

I finally reach the kitchen door, breathing in and out, preparing myself as I think about Diego.

I open the door, not prepared to see Diego with a knife in his hand.

I quickly run towards him, pushing the knife out of his hand and onto the floor.

"What do you think you are doing?" I ask with anger. The image has been imprinted in my head, even though Diego is alright, the thought of him hurting himself is in my head.

"What are you doing here?" He asks with confusion in his voice, totally ignoring my question.

"You can't answer my question with another question," I state.

"I can, now, please tell me why you are here." Diego murmurs walking away from me.

I am about to answer him, but Hunter's voice interrupts me.

"She is going to live here, till we solve your case."

AUTHOR'S NOTE.

❤