To the Dining Room

Aiko unlocked the front door and entered the magnificent entrance hall for the first time. Her eyes swept from side to side, looking for the first piece of nonsense this teenager had cooked up for her.

She wasn’t about to **** this kid’s home. This was a babysitting job. From her experience, children needed discipline. Not being grounded but a real punishment, even if it meant having to throw hands. Aiko was perfectly willing to put the eighteen-year-old Roxy over her knee if she had to.

Aiko was initially drawn to the staircase but decided against it. “Roxanne. This is your babysitter. Are you going to come down?”

“Hey, Aiko,” a voice echoed through the house. “I’ll be down soon. Make yourself at home.”

Aiko licked her lips. It was surprisingly pleasant and warm, even if she still didn’t trust this girl whatsoever after what she’d heard about this terror.

She proceeded to the left and into the lit dining room. Roxanne’s parents must be rich, she thought, as she marvelled at the long oak table stretching from one side of the room to the other. A cabinet filled with what looked like crystal glasses, an end table, and long Georgian windows looked out onto the front yard.

Aiko continued her explorations. She made her way across the dining room and toward a closed door at the other side. She flung open the door and paused at the threshold. It seemed to be an office or study of some kind. Standard bare floor with a furry shag carpet, bookshelves, seats, and stylish lamps. Pretty much what she expected.

A window on the left allowed some of the late afternoon hours into the office, casting sheets of rich gold onto the floor. To the right, a small atrium led to a subdued staircase.

Aiko shrugged and stepped forward.

Within her lair, Roxanne pressed a button.