Margaret bolted upright.
Her hand shot out.
She grabbed Sophie’s wrist.
Hard.
Sophie froze.
Margaret’s face had changed.
It was not anger.
It was terror.
“Not my back.”
Her voice trembled.
“Never.”
Sophie slowly nodded.
“Okay.”
She did not ask why.
She did not pull away suddenly.
She simply waited.
Margaret finally released her.
Sophie stepped back.
Neither woman mentioned it again.
For almost a month.
Then came a cold February morning.
Rain tapped against the window.
Margaret called Sophie into her room before breakfast.
“Close the door.”
Sophie did.
Margaret sat on the bed.
Her hands were folded tightly.
“Bring a basin of warm water.”
Sophie blinked.
“Some soap.”
Margaret swallowed.
“And a sponge.”
Sophie understood immediately.
“Are you sure, Margaret?”
Margaret stared toward the window.
“Before I change my mind.”
Sophie returned five minutes later.
She locked the door.
She closed the curtains.
Margaret stood slowly.
