Chapter 51
The following morning, Alice sheepishly pushes open the glass doors leading to the office of the San Francisco writers Guild. This felt a lot like the day at the Grand Hyatt. At the reception desk, a middle-ages women with a punctilious look of a librarian look up at her. May I help you?”
Alice took in a deep breath. “I need to find. Manuscript. It was written quite a while ago.”