Everly's entire body went rigid. This was it. The moment of truth. The puppet master behind the three stooges currently carrying her.
She held her breath, her lungs burning, her mind a frantic, silent scream. She was a statue of pure, unadulterated curiosity, terrified that a single twitch would make the entire situation poof out of existence like a bad dream.
Then, a voice drifted over. It wasn't the gravelly, menacing growl she'd expected. It was... melodic. Deep, yes, but laced with a playful, almost theatrical lilt that sounded more like a bored aristocrat critiquing a painting than a criminal mastermind.
"Aah… you actually managed to grab her. Color me impressed." A soft sigh followed, laced with theatrical contemplation. "Go on, put her on the table… ah, no, wait. The lines are all wrong. Too… utilitarian. How about the cabinet? No, my neck would cramp looking up. Sigh… fine, fine. Just put her on the sofa…"
"......"
