“
Layla sat on the floor in costume and makeup, waiting for the others for the pre-performance activities that Miss Ginger insisted on. First practice. Then pep talk and prayer.
Mercedes slipped into the tiny room and sat beside her, stretching a little.
“You okay?” Layla asked.
“Talking to the cops freaked me out,” Mercedes confessed. “How am I supposed to dance after that?”
Layla met her eyes. “I don't know if Diamond is kidnapped or at a party with movie stars. But somehow I'm not feeling a party.”
She spritzed more hair spray on her wayward curls.
“Yeah, me neither,” Mercedes admitted. “I got this bad feeling. Damn it! I never should have let her go to the food court alone.”
“Hey, you can't swallow this blame,” Layla told her. “That mall is like our second home. There was no way you could have guessed something bad would happen.”
“Yeah, I know, but I still feel responsible. I didn't need that new leotard! We shoulda stayed together. If I had just....
”
”
Sharon M. Draper (Panic)