Ashlyn stared at Marissa's hand. Her eyes were wide, the pupils dilated with panic. She didn't think. She simply reacted with the raw instinct of a drowning woman reaching for a rope.
She lunged.
Her hand clawed at the air, her fingernails hooked, aiming to snatch the paper away before Marissa could read it fully, before she could claim it.
"Give it to me!" Ashlyn shrieked.
But Marissa was faster. She had anticipated the move. She didn't step back; she sidestepped smoothly, pivoting on her heel.
Ashlyn's hand grasped only empty air. She stumbled forward, her momentum carrying her off balance.
Marissa didn't keep the slip for herself. She handed it, with a quick, decisive motion, to the woman standing beside her with the lantern.
"Mrs. Alma!" Marissa cried out. Her voice pitched up, a perfect imitation of shock and confusion, though her eyes remained cold and steady. "Please! Look at this! Quickly!"
