Closing the third door along the hallway that was not the powder room, Haven moved on to the next, desperate to find the one room in the corridor where she could freak out unnoticed. Frustrated with the bunching of her less than well-fit, borrowed gloves, she pulled them from her hands. The next door in the hallway was the room she sought. Tossing her gloves on the hallway table, she entered and closed the door behind her.
Gazing at her flushed appearance in the mirror, she fought the urge to high five her face. Hard.
What the hell is wrong with me?