Meanwhile, at the Motorway Motel, Kyla Leeson suddenly blinked. How had she gotten here?
She was in a motel room, and her hand was inside her bra. But it wasn't hers, nor were the clothes. She pulled the hand out, and in it was a wad of money and a note.
She looked at herself in the mirror. The clothes fit her perfectly, but they were nothing she'd ever wear. They were the sort of thing a much more daring person with well...a figure she didn't come close to having would wear. They also were much more mature a style that she'd seen on girls her age.
There were other mysteries. Her hair had been styled and her nails painted, but otherwise, she looked the same.
She opened the note. "Kyla, lay low for a while," it read.
What was going on?
