She didn’t even feel that rested. She had a faint headache and the pimple on her forehead hurt. She turned on her bedside light, sat up, wrenched off her sneakers, tossed them toward her closet, and then struggled out of her sweaty tights. She had peeled off all her clothes, and was walking naked across the room to retrieve the old kimono she used as a robe, when she noticed the puddle of green velvet on the floor—the cape she’d worn on her last date with Leo. It was right where Susan had left it after she’d thrown it off in frustration. Susan picked up the cape, gave it a shake, and carefully draped it around a hanger. Then she slipped on the kimono and went across the hall into the bathroom to run a bath. She sat on the toilet seat while she poured some eucalyptus bath salts into the water, and then lit as many candles along the lip of the tub as she could without standing up. The bright scent of eucalyptus filled the room. She watched the bathtub fill, steam rising, clouding the bathroom window and beading the medicine cabinet mirror with sweat. When the water was knee-high, Susan dropped the kimono on the floor and stepped into the tub.

The bathroom had a new door. Bliss had bought it at the ReBuilding Center, a house parts salvage yard, and painted it to look like the old one. Susan’s mother had tried to match the paint, but it had ended up the wrong color blue. Susan still saw Ryan Motley’s hand reaching through the splintered wood, feeling for the doorknob, the fear on Pearl’s face. The bathroom had been Susan’s idea—she had led Pearl there, a step ahead of the intruder. Until that night, the bathroom had always been Susan’s sanctuary.

Susan closed her eyes and sank back in the water. Her face felt hot. She let the water envelop her, until just her chin was above the waterline and the hair spray from the night before leached away, forming a dirty film on the surface. When she came up her skin was the color of coral. She poured a quarter-sized dollop of Dr. Bronner’s peppermint all-purpose liquid soap into her palm and washed her hair. Susan’s mother bought Dr. Bronner’s in a two-gallon jug and meted it out into containers throughout the house. They used it for everything—to brush their teeth, wash their hair, do dishes, wash their hands; Bliss even dabbed a little behind each ear in the morning as some sort of aromatherapy.