Instead, the bathroom is bone-dry. Dust covers the tiles. And there, standing in the middle of the empty room, is Elena. She isn’t bathing; she’s staring directly at the window, as if she had been waiting for Gardo’s eyes to meet hers for years. “And then?” Jomar asked, his cigarette forgotten.
Instead, the bathroom is bone-dry. Dust covers the tiles. And there, standing in the middle of the empty room, is Elena. She isn’t bathing; she’s staring directly at the window, as if she had been waiting for Gardo’s eyes to meet hers for years. “And then?” Jomar asked, his cigarette forgotten.