The curtain closed and then reopened. The plot gradually ascended towards its climax.
During the intermission, Margaret leaned against the aisle wall, gazing out at the audience. She searched again and again, but couldn't find any trace of Winchester.
Deceptive guy.
Margaret let out a soft hum.
Winchester was busy; he wouldn't stand her up without something extremely important. But that didn't stop her from silently cursing him.
Mario passed by her, tugging at his collar, his voice hoarse as he reminded her in a hushed tone, "We're almost done, don't mess up."
Due to the lights, they were both feeling hot. Mario's forehead glistened with sweat, his cheekbones flushed, and his voice a bit raspy.
Margaret raised an eyebrow, responding cryptically, "I'm more worried about you."
What did she mean?
