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Kira got out of her car and walked toward the tall building that housed Armand’s Dance Studio, along with several other businesses. She had used a McDonald’s bathroom to change into a pair of leggings from the gym bag she kept in her trunk. She still wasn’t dressed for the occasion, but no one would believe she would show up for dance pointers in a battered pair of jeans. She zipped up her hoodie as she walked to hide her faded Downward Spiral T-shirt. Her hair was back in its usual ponytail. She had left her hat in the car.
It was a risk, but she had been careful to make sure she hadn’t been followed, and she wanted to at least have a chance of walking into the high-end dance studio without looking like someone who had wandered in off the street.
A woman nearly bumped into her as sh
