11
It’s ten minutes to seven, and I’m dressed like a doll. A workout doll, to be exact.
I’m wearing one of the outfits Alexa said I should wear for my session with Ferguson: matching navy blue workout pants and sporty workout jacket, with a red workout shirt underneath. Even the navy blue shoes with the fancy red laces look like they go with the set. I feel like I’ve just been taken out of the box and handed all my accessories.
I have absolutely zero interest in exercising this morning—which is what I’m guessing is in store for me, based on the outfit—but I can’t see how to get out of it. Until I can talk to Jake and somehow get him to give me the tracking information, I’m stuck doing whatever people would expect Halli to be doing.
I descend the Grand Staircase, hoping I might run into
