|maneater z.m.|

NINE

Ambrosia tucked Harry's unloaded gun in her backpack, laughing along to her brother's joke as they entered their father's house. Despite the windowed walls that adorned the house, she felt safe there. The home's acreage was gated, secluded on a mountain where no one could enter unless they were invited and escorted by security.

Mr. Desmond Styles, chief surgeon of The Royal Melbourne Hospital, and Mrs. Anne Styles, a retired 80s actress and model, greeted Ambrosia warmly. Engulfed in her father's arms, she smiled into his shirt. They had not seen eachother since last Easter- considering they lived continents apart and Ambrosia had moved less than a month ago. Moving forward, however, Miriam and Desmond agreed to letting Ambrosia stay at the Styles Residence every other weekend.

"Hi, Anne." Ambrosia smiles, sitting next to her father in the patio L shaped couch. Anne stared at the flames of the outdoor chimney before turning to her stepdaughter again.

"Hey lovely, how are you adjusting to life around here?" She grins as Harry sits beside her, giving her a big hug from the side. He stays there and allows her fingers to run through his curly hair- a gesture that had soothed him since infancy.

"I'm doing well, happy to be closer to my siblings and you guys."

"And how's school?" Desmond asks, a big smile on his face.

"I like it so far. Everyone's very nice and welcoming." Ambrosia responds, leaning closer into her father's side.

"Is that delinquent still giving you trouble?" Anne worries, concern clear in her eyes as she looked up at her stepdaughter.

"No.. um.. he's locked away now for a while and once he comes out he's not allowed anywhere near me." Ambrosia says, chest feeling tight as memories of Philip's flood into her mind. His fiery touch, his words, the sound of his laughter ringing in her ears, his floppy hair tickling as he kissed down her neck, his lips.. Goosebumps rose on her skin just thinking about him. Then anger struck and burned all those bumps away until all she was left with an ire so intense, her body turned red.

Ambrosia was not mad at him, but at herself. She was angry because although she would never admit it out loud, she really missed who she thought he was before everything changed.

At night, after three rounds of charades and two large pizzas, Ambrosia found herself googling his name just to see familiar headlines show up. The smirk on his face was just as she remembered- unwavering and charming. His schoolboy good looks still had their effect on her, and she couldn't help but smiling as she saw more pictures of him with the tattoos she helped him get. Her smile faded as she saw another picture. Only this time, he was confined in handcuffs and screaming while being taken away. He looked as if he'd been struggling for release. His hair flew in every direction and his eyes were tired. At the corner of the picture was Miriam, hands covering her face out of pure exhaustion. Ambrosia remembers no one sleeping the month of his trial. Thoughts of their months together brought a smile on her face as pictures of them together popped up on the screen. She remembers being so desperately in love with him those sleepless nights filled with laughter, tender touches and adventures on his 1959 baby blue Vespa.

Philip's spell and Ambrosia's smile was lifted as she scrolled and the saw mutilated bodies of her past lovers found in Chameleon Creek River.