Just as Winona Wallace felt her whole body aching, her head heavy, and struggled to open her eyes without success.
She felt someone shove her right arm vigorously: "Quick, hide sweetheart, my wicked woman is coming, don't let her catch you."
A rough and sleazy voice belonging to a middle-aged man, one she had never heard before, sounded in her ear.
Winona Wallace felt puzzled.
She should have never heard this voice, yet why did it sound familiar to her?
Moreover, she should still be in Room 2309, and even if she fainted, she shouldn't be hearing someone like this speaking at her ear.
She was the proud Miss Wallace; when had she ever met such a boorish person?
But the middle-aged man's hand, with its greasy touch, was still pushing hard on her shoulder.
And the man, while lowering his voice to wake her, his greasy palm rubbing on her shoulder, made her feel nauseous.
