25Dozens of hospital beds were crammed into Margaux’s Fitness and Wellness ward, not unlike LeClaire Model Management itself.
Skeletons slept on their gurneys. IVs and feeding tubes snaked into their bodies like an irrigation system. Sunken blue eyes and jaundiced skin peeked out from under the sheets. They slept because they didn’t have enough energy to open their eyes. Under their beds, they hid fashion magazines and Dials for i********: like teenaged boys and middle-aged husbands hid pornography.
The smell of bile wafted from the garbage can.
“Cecil,” a croaking voice echoed from across the room, “did you find what you were looking for?”
Cecil turned to see Jordan’s friend, one of the models from LeClaire Model Management, attached to an IV pole and shivering underneath her blankets
