Chapitre 16: Chapter 16

“Pretty pitiful,” I muttered. But it was what it was.

I showered, and like the previous night at the motel, I stood under the hot water until it began to cool before washing. The towels were so clean and white and soft I was almost afraid to use them to dry off—but I did, of course.

I got into bed, dreading the day when all this ended and I was back on the streets again. “Or in jail,” I said under my breath, “if things don’t work out the way we hope.” I chuckled. “If I do, I’ll have three meals a day and a bed.” Not that I wanted to end up there. Living on the streets wasn’t great by a long shot, but at least I had my freedom.

* * * *

Trent picked me up just before eight the following morning, as promised.

“Clean clothes,” he commented when I got into the car. “Even if they are well-worn.”

“There’s that ‘tell it like it is’ thing, again,” I replied, chuckling.