A Bath
That night, Sierra had told him she wanted nothing more than to take a bath. A nice hot one. So hot she’d have to stick her legs out and rest them on the side of the tub for relief. And bubbles. She had smiled. Thick and foamy, swirling soft under the tap and billowing in a pile she’d have to chop through with her body. She might have done a facial mask, might have conditioned her hair. Afterward, she might even have had the patience to wield the nail file. Instead, Sierra stood in the shower and tried to smoke a cigarette. Her hands shook as she brought it to her mouth. The pack lay dry...
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