Someone had come with a key to unlock her cage.
It was a young man in a suit with jet-black hair, thrumming with the restless energy of youth. His movements had a roguish edge. "Try taking one more picture. I'll smash your camera. Believe it or not!"
The young man radiated hostility, and the photographer lowered his camera.
Nancy Warner didn't say a word, but the dim, lifeless look in her eyes faded away, slowly replaced by a spark of light.
The young man took off his jacket and walked toward her.
Gone was her usual high-and-mighty, distant expression. She tilted her head, dressed in casual clothes. A few stray locks of hair were stuck to her red, swollen cheeks, and her eyes were red, too.
She rather looked like a little princess who had fallen from grace.
He walked over and draped the jacket over her head. He raised his hand and, through the fabric, gave her head a light pat. "Hey, straight-A student. You dare skip class?"
