When he entered, the room was completely empty. He paused, confused. He'd told his family to go straight here. "They were supposed to..." he turned to see Michelle closing the door behind him and moving toward the bed, slipping out of his heels
The maid had a grin on his face. "Naughty monsieur, telling me such stories. You did not have to make up excuses to get me alone."
"This is all a mistake," he said. "My wife is supposed to be here."
"I do not go in for that sort of thing, monsieur," she said.
"My name is Stephen Pryce. I came here with my wife and two children, and I do not know what the hell is going on here," he insisted. "I'm going to call the manager."
The maid sat on the edge of the bed. "Oui," she agreed.
He headed toward the phone to call down to the desk. He was reading the instructions when he heard a thump. Michelle had fallen back on the bed, passed out.
He dropped the phone and went to shake him, but there was no response. "What the..." he started, before he suddenly passed out himself, falling on top of the other prone form.
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