Trapped too long in an awkward crouch, Maxzyne’s foot suddenly cramps. “Owww!” she moans. She shifts her position and knocks over a broom. She is horrified when the wooden handle thuds against the closet.
“What was that?” Gigi asks sharply.
Silence. Maxzyne covers her face, afraid to breathe. Beside her, Elise trembles.
“Old pipes. Maybe a ghost,” Ms. Mitchell answers. “This building must be filled with ghosts after all these years.”
Gigi gives a snort. “Yeah. A dead shopper just realized his sales coupon expired!” She laughs, opening the door.
“Goodness, Gigi. Have respect for the spirits!” Ms. Mitchell’s kindly voice grows fainter as the two women exit.
“You know, Ray’s got a few ghost stories about this place. You two could compare them and. . . .” The heavy door groans shut.
Seconds later, Maxzyne and Elise creep from the closet.
“Yikes! I thought they’d never go! Ugh! It was stuffy in there. And that smell! Like bleach or something.” Looking in the mirror, Maxzyne wrinkles her nose, automatically straightening her hat.
“Let’s just go, Maxzyne!” Elise pulls on the heavy door, and it groans once more. She looks nervous. “Have you ever seen a ghost, Maxzyne? I remember Cecile, the head seamstress, used to tell stories about ghosts when she was doing fittings late at night. How the ghosts would haunt people and drive them crazy and—”
“The only thing haunting us is Jameson, that security guy. Let’s go! We are so out of here!”
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