In one smooth motion she was on her feet again, her back against one of the dryers. The small gray room filled rapidly, the steam boiling and swirling as it bounced against the concrete-block walls. In seconds Nancy was wrapped in the deadly fog. Perspiration streamed from her forehead, bathing her eyes in a salty, stinging flood. She was blind and finding it harder and harder to breathe. She had to get out! Dropping to her knees, Nancy felt her way toward the door, hoping she didn’t stray too far in either direction. If she didn’t get out soon, she’d die from the heat. She bumped into something hard and smooth, the door and not a concrete wall. But her relief was short-lived. Her hands were so wet she couldn’t turn the knob. Scrubbing them against the smooth fabric of her leotard, almost as wet as her hands, she gripped the knob as hard as she could. It turned. Nancy rushed out and almost ran over Maria. “Nancy! What happened to you? You’re soaking wet!” Unable to answer, Nancy slumped against the wall, trying to catch her breath.
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