For the third time that evening, there was a knock at the door. Alice's patience, already wearing thin, finally snapped. Her sharp eyes flicked toward the door as her lips pressed into a cold, tight line. She had hoped for a moment of peace after the chaotic day, but it seemed fate , or someone persistent,had other plans. Maybe that could explain the constant interruptions ever since she finished the race.
Dragging herself from the plush chair she had been seated in, Alice strode to the door, her steps purposeful but reluctant. She opened the door with a sharp tug, ready to lash out whoever dared disturb her again, but stopped short when she saw a young man standing there.
His polished uniform and slightly nervous expression told her he was one of the event organizers.
"Miss Wilson," the man greeted, his voice polite but slightly trembling under Alice's cool gaze. "I'm sorry for disturbing you, but I have an important matter to discuss with you."
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