Rory
I made it three steps into the private hallway before every instinct I owned started screaming at me to turn around, and I ignored every single one of them, because apparently that's just who I am now.
The corridor beyond the brass *PRIVATE* sign was quieter than the ballroom by an almost violent margin, the chandelier noise and string quartet fading into a hush broken up by the muffled echo of two voices somewhere ahead, low, close, careful in the specific way people get when they don't want to be overheard. I kept close to the wall, heels of my dress shoes barely making contact with the marble, my pulse loud enough in my ears that I half expected it to give me away before anything else could.
"—can't keep doing this in public spaces," Desmond's voice, tight, controlled, none of t
