I walked straight toward the main door of the suite.

The patterned carpet muffled my footsteps completely.

I walked toward the alcove near the elevators, where the big metal ice machine hummed against the wall.

The machine dropped fresh cubes into the bin.

Megan stood in front of it holding a small plastic bucket.

She held a tube in her right hand and kept reapplying lip gloss.

Megan looked up and spotted me in the corridor.

She capped the gloss and slipped it into the pocket of her silk pajamas.