-Ezra:
I stepped out of the bathroom, the lingering warmth of the shower clinging to my damp skin, droplets of water still hanging in my hair. Taking a proper shower here was… complicated. Not like the river back home, where I could just step in and let the water wash everything away.
Here, there were strange buttons, taps, and bottles I didn't even know how to read. I had to ask Julien for help. He stood nearby, calm and patient, giving me just enough privacy to feel decent, but not so far away that I felt abandoned. I let the water wash away the grime, the sweat, the fear, the tension of the last few days. By the time I stepped out, I felt… light. Fresh. Almost like I could breathe properly for the first time in weeks.
Julien handed me some clothes that belonged to his Pops—simple pants, a shirt, and shoes that fit surprisingly well. I dressed carefully, the fabric soft against my skin, and I ran my fingers through my damp hair, pushing strands out of my face.
