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going down this hallway, and then a left will take you back to
the guest room. The hallway in there will take you right on back
to the dressing room!”
Maggie forced a smile in return. “Thanks for your help.”
“No problem,” came the cheerful reply as the associate
glided away. “Let me know if you need anything else!”
This was all so silly, Maggie mused, as she forced herself
forward again. No reason to be so jumpy. It really was a fine
boutique; everything was so Amanda’s style, and it was a quaint,
offbeat place with friendly service. As for her own little episodes,
well (she smiled ruefully at the thought), that was her own fault;
why hadn’t she realized earlier that she was not well enough
to go shopping? It would have saved her a lot of trouble, and
Amanda could have found the dress without her.
Wait. Hadn’t she just been here? She threw a glance over
her shoulder. There, the same gilded trim around the door, the
same blue and burgundy carpet…the same rotting rose drapery.
Maybe all the rooms were all decorated identically? And then
her heart skipped a beat and she stopped short.
She was face to face with the silvery-white dressed man-
nequin.
She must have lost herself in her thoughts and somehow
gotten turned around. Of course that was it. Just another bit of
confusion brought on by sickness. Her head was really throbbing
now, a pulse beating behind her brow, and there was an unpleas-
ant sensation of pins and needles in the tips of her fingers. She
had only gotten a migraine once before in her life, and that had
been years ago, when she was 12 years old. This was really not
the time for it to make a reappearance.
The fall must have rattled her. She had to find Amanda and
get a ride home. She could pick up her car later, when she was
well enough to drive it.
“Maggie…?”
“Amanda?” Maggie moved in the direction of the sound,

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