She tries to leave, but....

Bailey pounded on the door, her fists striking the cold metal with frustration, but it was no use—nobody inside seemed to hear her. Her heart raced as she glanced helplessly at the locked door, her mind spinning with all the things that could go wrong. She could feel the vulnerability of being out here, exposed and stranded in nothing but her damp towel. She let out a breath, her shoulders slumping in resignation. There was no other choice. She would have to walk around to the front entrance and hope no one saw her, hoping the embarrassment wouldn't feel too overwhelming.

She took a deep breath and turned away from the door, preparing herself to make the trek across the alley, the towel clinging to her skin in the chilly breeze. But just as she started to take her first step, she felt an unexpected resistance. The towel, which she had wrapped tightly around her body, tugged against her movements. She paused, confusion furrowing her brow. The towel didn't feel right—like something was pulling it, or perhaps it had caught on something. Bailey reached behind her, instinctively trying to pull it free, but the resistance only grew stronger. Her pulse quickened again, and her stomach churned with a creeping sense of unease. Something was definitely off.