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CHAPTER 94

Darlene

I could hear them from where I was hiding, the shrill, harried voices of rich women in heat mucking about in their uppity little social circles, the clank of their New York designer wears, and chardonnay wine glasses set my teeth on what I knew would be a night-long grind.

I placed a calming hand on my chest, watching the brown-haired woman in the mirror chuckle what I could almost describe as evilly, the ruddy plains of her square face bent toward my hair as she attacked the short curtain of unbending black locks with bobby pins and her instruments of war.

”Nervous my Lady?” Mary tittered and I inhaled sharply, my heart slamming once into my ribcage so hard that I cupped my hands to my chest, aiming to catch the stubborn organ.

Did I look nervous? My eyes fitted to hers in the mirror, but they remained staunchly fixed on my diamond-encrusted hair, before I cleared my throat, the moment of hesitation passing somewhat awkwardly.

“Me? Hardly, I'm excited,” I wheezed, flashing he
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