A Day in the Life of Major Grace Newman before the Zoastra Affair Part Twelve
Southeastern’s laughter at this point was a fifty-fifty toss-up. It might help their situation…or get them all killed. All Grace Newman wanted to do was get home to her husband and life.
“Southeastern, how many men guarded our door?”
“Just two. And there is a window directly across from the door. I’d say we’re on the second floor.”
Mortlock added to the conversation, “There’s enough fabric and lace in this room to make a rope.”
Grace reassessed their feminine surroundings. Yes, Mortlock had a good eye. The beds had white sheets, the doors were lined with fabric, and the closet doors were open and full of costumes. The green and colors of the room must be like this world’s pink. There was a delicate feel to the place.
Good. She had a plan to get home to Peter. “Let’s get to tying ropes, as we figure out how to get rid of the guards.”
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