Meeting Damon

★★★★★

Later in the afternoon, Jasmine got out of her room, a little careful. It was the time when the caretaker left for home. She went to the kitchen and packed all the food into plastic as she was going to throw it.

Jasmine hurried to her room, her mind racing. She needed to get to that party—something about the woman’s words in the café had lodged itself deep in her gut, a feeling she couldn’t shake. There was more going on than Paul was letting on, and she wasn’t about to sit around waiting for answers.

But as she flung open her closet, frustration hit her like a wave. No cocktail dresses, nothing remotely fancy—just her usual casual clothes. She bit her lip, scanning her options. Then it hit her: she didn’t need to stand out. In fact, it was better if she didn’t.

Grabbing a pair of jeans and a plain top, she reached for the mask she’d tucked away, the one that would keep her identity hidden. Fancy dress or not, she’d blend into the shadows and see what Paul was up to. Her finger