At that moment, the announcer's face was already pale, and her voice trembled slightly as she responded, "I'm really, really sorry, ma'am, but the director can't come here. It's... it's simply not possible." Her hands were clasped tightly in front of her, and even though she tried to keep a composed face, the pressure in the room was crushing. Everyone's eyes were on her judging, waiting, ready to pounce.
Again Abigail's brows twitched with even more rage. Her heels made a sharp click against the polished floor as she stepped forward, her presence commanding the attention of even those who were trying not to stare. "Then since the so-called director won't come down here to face me," she began, her tone low but laced with venom, "I'm not letting go of that damn dress for anything."
