The one thing Wendy Quinn hated most was being called a coward. At the mere mention of the word, she immediately bristled. Shaking off Shalma Hughes's hand, she snapped, "Who's a coward? I'm just worried about what we'll do if we go in and can't afford anything. Are we supposed to sell our bodies to pay off the debt? I'm still a respectable, unmarried woman! It'd be a tragedy."
Shalma Hughes glanced at Wendy, who was complaining as bitterly as a grieving widow. The corners of Shalma's naturally beautiful lips couldn't help but twitch.
They passed through the corridor and rounded a fountain where countless coins lay undisturbed beneath the water. In the center stood a pristine, beautiful white statue of The Muse. She held a jar in her hand, from which water continuously cascaded down to merge with the pool below. It was a simple scene, yet it looked incredibly harmonious and elegant.
