Fancy took deep slow breaths as she led Marie through the swinging doors and into the shadowed hallway. The staircase loomed at the other end shrouded in darkness. And Fancy tried not to think about Charlie up there. Sweet innocent Charlie who's very life depended on her. No, she had to think clearly, not emotionally. She had to save him.
She turned around and look at Marie. The kind look on her face, her gentle grandmotherly ways, she almost told her. She really did.
"The truth is, Marie," she reached out to take the woman's hands in hers in an apologetic manner. "I'm a...lady of the evening, as they say. And I have a client waiting for me upstairs."