Stretching her leg against the wall, Meg groaned, "Was it me or was Mr. H. a little sadistic today?"
Christine ran a glass of cool water across her heated forehead. She furrowed her brow in thought, "He seemed preoccupied. It felt like we were going to be sent out to war."
"No, I do believe he was trying to kill us right there on the dance floor."
Christine listened to the clock chime, and felt a vague unease. They had finished their lessons fifteen minutes ago. Madame Giry was never late to escort them back to the opera house.
Meg jumped as a voice hissed from behind her, "Don't turn around. The two of you are in great danger. Do not scream."
Meg grasped Christine's arm in a death-grip, blue eyes wide.
"Who..." Christine didn't finish, the air grate beneath their feet gave way and the two friends were free falling.
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