“Cami, we haven’t seen you in months,” Susan Killian, the owner of the studio, enthused when Cami entered the place. She was all smiles and came around the reception desk to give Cami a hug. The woman was short and comfortably plump, she had unnaturally brassy red hair—always up in a messy bun—wore too much makeup, and had glasses perched on the tip of her nose. She had a habit of staring over the top of them when she was speaking to someone, which made her look like an aging librarian. She was still hugging Cami—who was only an inch or two taller than the other woman—to her ample chest, enveloping her in an overpowering cloud of Red Door by Elizabeth Arden. Susan had been a pretty decent dancer back in her heyday, before retiring and opening the dance studio. Now she taught ballet to girl
