The door of the room where I’m hiding opens, and I hear the heavy steps of two big henchmen. I’m hunkered down on the other side of the dressing room, hoping to stay hidden. They’re heading toward my hiding place. The doors slide open.
I am trembling so much that I have to hold my breath to avoid it alerting them. I have to close my eyes and cross my fingers, my joints hurting.
And the doors close. They must have thrown in a brief glance but didn’t poke their heads inside. They couldn’t miss me otherwise. I wait patiently for them to move away and out of the room before I let out all the air I have been holding, and slide to the floor.
I need a good fifteen minutes to restore a normal heart rhythm. I slap myself on the wrist: all of these risks for no results. What a gourd! Here I am we
