Ariana POV
Breathing hard, she sank to the floor of the hotel room she shared with Dimitri. She'd taken off her suit and thrown on a robe. Beside her, Maarah also caught her breath. She'd changed out of her ghostly attire even faster than Ariana.
"They touched us," she panted.
"I don't think they recognized us," Maarah huffed.
"How do you know for sure? This is bad, Maarah."
Elina knelt on the floor beside them. "No, you're wrong. If they recognized you, you wouldn't be safe and sound and sitting here forgetting to wash off your white face paint."
Her hands touched her greasy cheeks. "How did I do that? Excuse us."
A quick trip to the bathroom solved her problem, and Maarah's. They both cleansed the white face paint from their cheeks. Every speck of it. Every trace.
Returning from the gold and white bathroom, they made their way to the sitting area in record time, rejoining the others.