Charlotte's POV
I slipped out of the function hall as quickly as I could, my heart racing. I knew Sophia would be looking for me again, probably ready to ask—no, beg—me to join them tonight. I wasn't in the mood for social games or forced laughter. I just wanted space.
But as I stepped outside, I froze.
Standing near the entrance, leaning casually against the wall, was the last person I expected—or wanted—to see.
"Can I speak with you for a moment?" the woman asked, straightening as I approached.
It took me a second to place her face—she was the one who had boldly asked Jack out earlier.
"You're Charlotte, right?" she continued, not waiting for my response. "I'm Deborah."
She extended a hand, and though every part of me wanted to ignore it, I took it out of reflex. Her handshake was firm, confident—too confident.
"What do you want from me?" I asked, keeping my voice as casual as I could, though suspicion already prickled beneath my skin.
She didn't waste any time.
