A Dark Touch
Panic overwhelmed her, and she released a small cry; she attempted wiggling out of the straps, using her puny strength.
"Relax," A voice came, startling her. Harlow glanced around; her eyes skimmed across the white walls until they landed on a woman seated in a metal chair across the room. Her hair was brown, chopped off right above her shoulders, and she was dressed in a tight, blue dress that contrasted with her black heels that seemed to give off a shine and slickness that told her that the mysterious lady had never worn them until now. Not a drop of mud or dust laid on top of the expensive material.
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