ROTTEN APPLES ↝ DESCENDANTS [1]

[2]

Sabrina sat cross-legged on the floor of the Museum of Cultural History, textbooks splayed out in front of her as she scribbled down notes about the Enchanted Rose, the historical artifact itself resting on its stand in front of her, the surrounding light giving it an ethereal glow. As a child, Sabrina had spent countless nights in the Auradon palace with Ben and Brooklyn, listening to the stories Queen Belle and King Adam would tell of the Rose and its powers, and she'd seen it hundreds of times passing through the museum, though getting to study it so closely was something she hadn't anticipated.

"Alright," she sighed, poring over her notes and looking up at the clock to see that it was nearly eleven-thirty, well past curfew, thanks to the note Fairy Godmother had signed, granting her access to the museum after hours to work on her project. "Five more minutes, Brina. Just five more minutes."

She'd hardly managed to immerse herself back into the words written in her textbook when a loud shrieking noise came from the speakers lining the museum's walls, a sound she'd only once been privy to in the past, thanks to a fall Doug had taken due to tripping over his own two feet and toppling into the Black Cauldron during a field trip when they were young kids: the security alarm.

She leapt to her feet, quickly shoving her books into her backpack before slinging it over one shoulder and racing for the stairwell. Surely there couldn't be anybody else in the museum after closing, but she was also certain the guard on duty would have told her if they'd been testing the alarms that night. The only thing Sabrina knew for sure was that she was ready to call it a night and get out of the building in case something bad was happening.

Rounding the corner to the stairs, she came to an abrupt stop as she nearly ran into the burly figure in front of her, taking in the sight of Jay and the four other VKs behind him, much to her surprise. They had run out of the room Fairy Godmother's wand resided in, down the main hallway of artifacts left over from the larger than life tales her parents and their friends had experienced over twenty years ago, and all five of them froze at the sight of the Princess of Charmington, their eyes never leaving hers as she watched them, horror evident in her own.

The calm, confident, and collected demeanor Jay had worn earlier that day during their tour of the quad was long gone, replaced by surprise and, dare she say it, fear over their current predicament. The boy next to him, Carlos, she had later learned his name was when she had texted Doug to ask how the rest of the tour had gone, seemed to be shaking in his sneakers at the prospect of the group being caught doing whatever it was they had shown up that evening at the museum for. The girls, however, remained just as calculating as ever, as if sizing up Sabrina and trying to figure a way out of their current situation.

Sabrina's focus on the group was quickly broken by the sound of the guard rushing up the stairs, following the sound of the alarm, and the gazes of all six of them was quickly pulled to where he was due to appear around the corner at any second. Mentally cursing herself for what she knew she was about to do, she looked back up at them, gesturing for the small alcove behind them that would be hidden from the guard's view.

"Hide," she whispered quickly, shoving Jay in the alcove's direction, and the others quickly followed suit, knowing that they had no time for questions.

The auburn haired girl, Hannah, brought up the rear of the group, barely vanishing from sight before the guard on duty that evening, Mitch, had come into view, reaching the top of the stairs with his flashlight on, the beam falling on Sabrina as he watched her with a confused glance.

"Miss White," he said urgently, out of breath from climbing the flights of steps, and surprised to see she was the only one around as he took a few steps forward, opening a space between him and the stairs large enough for somebody to walk through unnoticed, so long as he wasn't looking. "What's happening? Did you see anybody up here?"

"I'm sorry," Sabrina apologized quickly, grabbing his attention. "It's my fault. I was taking a quick walk through a couple of the exhibits for a small break when I tripped, and I accidentally hit the alarm."

She glanced quickly at the alcove behind Mitch, noticing the VKs watching her with confused expressions. She hadn't known why they were at the museum that night after curfew, or what might have happened had they not tripped the alarm and run into her, yet she was choosing to cover for them all the same, surprising herself as well as the five newcomers. 

"Ah," he said with relief, turning off his flashlight and lowering it to secure it back onto his belt. "It's an honest mistake. One I've made many times in the past while doing rounds."

As Mitch spoke, Sabrina nodded her head slowly to the side, so small that it seemed natural to the security guard. However, Jay acknowledged the sign, leading the group quietly past the distracted man and down the steps, tiptoeing until they made it around the corner, where the sound of their footsteps was drowned out by the ringing alarm. Much to the relief of both her and the guard, the alarm stopped a few moments later, leaving them in silence.

"Well, I should get going back to campus." Sabrina said, as soon as she was sure the VKs had gone. "Thank you again, and I'm sorry about the alarm."

"Not to worry," Mitch assured her as she began to descend the staircase towards the exit. "Have a good night, Your Highness."

Sabrina bid him goodbye as she made her way down the stairs and out of the museum, into the cool night air. She found her bike at the bottom of the museum steps where she had left it when she first arrived earlier that evening, though the VKs were nowhere to be found, long having disappeared into the night.

She wasn't sure what they were up to, or what lead to them winding up in the Museum of Cultural History that night, but she knew she was going to find out, one way or another.