[h2][center][color=9e0b0f]ℳ𝒶𝓇𝒾𝒶𝓃𝒶[/color][/center][/h2]
[center]🂱[/center]
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Marianas jaw clenched, her eyes closing for a moment as she sends a last message to Benoit before looking back to her brother. 

She doesn’t say anything, an annoyed fire in her eyes. He was right. She knew he was right. Mariana could do nothing to change that fact that she, like all of her siblings and mother, were suspects for murder. 

What a damper on the mood. 

“If they want to speak with me, they can do so in [i]my[/i] home. Not some beach house of station.” She says, pulling a notepad from her purse, writing her address down as Benoit pulls up. “Here. Give them this if they ask for me. If not, I don’t exist. Yeah?” She hands him the paper, walking to the car before pausing, her hand in the door handle. 

“You…you don’t [i]actually[/i] think one of [i]us[/i] killed him…right?” She asks, her voice softer now, more vulnerable.