Clara flinched at Mrs. Gray's sudden rise, nearly smudging her freshly applied lipstick.
"Gal, what's going on? You scared my fragile soul," she said, pressing a dramatic hand to her chest.
Mrs. Gray stood frozen for a second, phone still clenched in her palm. The music outside swelled, applause erupting as Tracy hit a high note, yet inside her head everything rang hollow ,like sound echoing in an empty corridor. She swallowed hard.
"I-I… I gotta go somewhere," she managed, voice thin and uneven.
Clara's eyes widened in instant alarm. "Wait, what's going on? Is it a fashion emergency?" Her tone shifted from playful to urgent in half a heartbeat ,the kind of urgency reserved for broken heels and public wardrobe disasters.
"Wait wha—"
