She looked in the dark bathroom and caught a quick glimpse of the other woman. Her blood ran cold. Yes, she was dressed like the princess in the picture, but she was no beauty, just a crude façade that would only work on a child. The golden locks of hair held up by a pink bow was clearly a wig, and the struggle to hold Christine had managed to make it come slightly loose, revealing strange, pale skin underneath. But it was the face that shook her to her core. Daisy had no face. No, that wasn’t right. Something was tightly pulled over her face like a robber wearing pantyhose. Except this
...more
