In the next breath, Cassie is falling.She falls in no direction she can discern. Everything races away no matter what direction she looks, as if she i... collapsing into herself. She passes through the veil, twisted and distorted as if warped by a thick, uneven lens. Gray gives way to pastels, pastels to brilliance, brilliance to white-out. Just as she is about to scream into the burning white, it flashes out of existence, and she is standing in her own room.For a moment, she believes she has. She was sitting on a corner stool with her legs crossed facing to the side allowing her pointy-toed pump to dangle loosely. Judging by its elegant cut, they were probably Jimmy Choo’s, and I was sure the business style skirt-suit she adorned was designer. She had her nose buried in her phone texting, pausing momentarily to scan the room. She was definitely looking for someone, a date maybe. It was evident whomever was supposed to meet her was late, which would prove to be my favor. Krista, whom. More

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