They take into account that you are in the female bathroom

Abella eyes finding yours. "What the fuck are you doing in here? You have some nerve you weak pathetic bitch. Sneaking into women showering rooms. I could get you kicked out for this." She moving toward you.

Cecilia said. "Yeah why are you in here? Are you a peeping tom." Both women now glaring at your naked body, their prior issues momentarily forgotten.

Your throat clicks, a dry swallow in a room thick with steam and rising anger. You manage a choked syllable, something that might have been "Just-" but it's swallowed whole by the tidal wave of their combined vitriol.

"A peeping tom?" Abella repeats, the words landing with the weight of a thrown brick. She steps closer, her large breasts swaying with the aggressive motion. Her party-girl attitude is gone, replaced by something genuinely sharp and dangerous. "No. He's worse than that. He's Ella's little pet project, isn't he?" Her dark eyes flick over you, cataloging your every flaw with predatory precision. "I saw her with you. Walking out of Mr. Tatum's office like a kicked puppy who'd just been told to fetch." She gives a cruel little laugh. "Let me guess, she put you up to this? Did your mistress sic you on us to see what's happening? Are you her little surveillance worm?"

Your muscles lock. Your gaze darts back toward the shower stall. The curtain shifts slightly. She's watching. She's enjoying this.

Cecilia crosses her arms, a gesture that somehow makes her seem more formidable despite her lack of clothing. A smirk plays on her lips, and she shifts her weight, one cocked hip accentuating her curves.

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