Marie woke inside Corinne’s dressing room. Her mind wouldn’t let her think of it as her dressing room. For one thing, the other actress had been much too fond of lace and gauzy fabrics. Marie didn’t know how much stuff Corinne had stashed in this room, but she guessed it would be enough to keep some very lucky ragpicker fed for a month. If Lucille didn’t sell it first, but would she want to attach herself monetarily to a doomed woman’s possessions?
That’s not a useful thought, and many women will be happy for such luxuries, especially right now.
Marie propped herself on her elbows and saw she lay on the chaise lounge to the right of the door. She kicked a pair of stockings to the floor. The script lay on the dressing table, but it was thinner than she remembered.
What…?
A movement in h
