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Voices come from the elevator, and Annie bolts toward the hall. “No! You can’t come in.”
“Why not?”
The impatient British accent has my toes curling. Harrison.
The designer pulls harder on the corset back. I wipe a hand over my forehead. It comes back damp. I sway on my feet.
“Rae!”
Harrison’s bark.
The room swims in front of my eyes, my head feeling like a balloon gradually filling with helium.
Up.
Up.
One more yank at my waist makes my eyes flutter shut.
Away.
Footsteps echo in my ears a moment before my vision blurs.
When I hit the floor, my last thought is that the carpet is less cushioned than it looks.
