The last two times Mai Mingle had pulled the door, she had only opened it a narrow crack before stopping.
To her, this made perfect sense. If she opened the door too wide, the woman touching up her makeup might realize someone was in the stall. She had to be careful.
...So she had always believed that opening the door just a sliver was her own decision.
The narrow gap was the result of her own deliberation, of her arm muscles obeying her brain's command.
It was only when Mai Mingle tried to open the door a little wider—to get a look at the mirror across from the woman—that she realized she was wrong.
It turned out the door could only be opened a hair's breadth. No matter how hard she pulled, it wouldn't budge any further, as if it had been sealed with molten steel.
'How can this be? Is the door broken?'
