“Earn trust, earn trust, earn trust. Then you can worry about the rest.”

—Seth Godin

“Before I start,” Sophia said, “it cannot hurt if we press the alarm button again.” She pressed it, but… nothing. Again, no alarm. Just silence.

“Shouldn't we try and shout? Maybe someone will hear us,” Felix said.

Sophia agreed, and she and Felix began yelling, “Help! Help! Can anyone hear us? Hello? Help!” But, again, nothing.

“Do you think we've got enough air in here?” Felix asked, suddenly sounding a bit concerned. He hadn't thought about the air flow before.

“Yes, of course. This old, broken elevator has more holes than Swiss cheese. There's enough air in here. Are you okay, Felix?”

“Yes, but I'd feel better if you started telling me about The Leadership House. I need some distraction again.”

“Sure. The Leadership House.” Sophia opened her handbag, which perfectly suited her style. It was fancy, just like her. Felix didn't recognize the brand name on the handbag, but he knew it wasn't the brown Louis Vuitton bag that so many women carried, the one that's so overused that its value as a status symbol has diminished over time. Sophia's bag seemed extraordinary. It was a small black handbag with a slim style made from croc‐effect leather and a vintage‐inspired hinge clasp. Sophia reached into her handbag and took out her red lipstick. “Since we have been stuck in this elevator for quite some time already, I hope they do not mind me painting a bit.” ...

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