Harper backed away, eying the bag with a hard gaze. “What is that?”

“I like to call it the ghost bag.”

“Oh, very original.”

“It does the job,” the guy said, swinging it at Harper. She ducked, missing the swoop narrowly.

“It won’t be catching me any time soon!” Harper cried, dashing (or, more correctly put, gliding) out of the auditorium at breakneck speed.

Enjoying the newfound feeling of not getting tired, Harper put her mind to work and tried to find a way to get out of this particularly sticky situation.

She had a good idea of where to go, but a very ominous feeling had settled over her, sort of like a suffocating blanket. She didn’t know why, but it was there, alright.

Harper didn’t spend any time pondering the repercussions of what would happen if that creepy green – eyed man caught up with her, so she ducked into the first room she thought of.

Harper froze when she saw who’s room she had entered.

This is Brad’s dressing room.

The oh so faithful fiance.