Monica pointed her toward the waiting room without being asked, a small courtesy that told Arianne she hadn't hidden the search on her own face as well as she'd thought. "Second door on the left. She's been in there since the panel started."
Sam was on the couch with her shoes off and her feet tucked under her, scrolling through something on her phone that she set face-down the second the door opened. A garment bag hung on the back of the door, tomorrow's early call already laid out before tonight had finished with her. She looked up, and for a second the practiced ease she wore for cameras slipped into something plainer.
Arianne shut the door behind her, muting the noise from the hallway to almost nothing, and crossed to the armchair across from the couch. She lowered herself into it and took a moment to arrange her dress before she looked up again.
"You look tired," she said.
