Chapter 61

• The moment I slipped out of sight, I darted toward the washroom like a shadow melting into the dark. The corridors pulsed with noise from the outside cheers, camera shutters, the low thrum of excitement. None of it touched me.
• Inside the cramped stall, I yanked open the heavy black duffel bag I’d hidden earlier and laid out the tools of my transformation. Foundation, spirit gum, silver wig. The old woman staring back at me in the mirror was my shield harmless, wrinkled, utterly forgettable. A ghost no one would question.
• As I adjusted the edge of the wig, my phone buzzed.