An icy chill runs through me, and I shiver, rubbing my arms as goose bumps cover them. This is wrong. This whole thing is wrong. Why would I not be allowed to lock my doors while living in a house with all these men? I would say something to Mom about it, but I’m sure she would laugh it off—if I got lucky. Otherwise, she’ll demand to know why I’m making her life so difficult. I don’t know what would be worse, being laughed at or blamed for something I’m not trying to do.

Another thing I’m not trying to do is take a shower without being able to lock the door. I feel so dirty after spending hours in those bus seats, sometimes falling asleep while my head rested against a window countless other people touched. The thought of it makes me wrinkle my nose. How am I supposed to clean up when I can’t trust Colt and Nix to stay out?

One of my new bedroom furnishings is a desk and a matching chair. It’s about the right size, so I pick the chair up and carry it to the bathroom, where I wedge it under the doorknob. At least now I can breathe a little easier, even if the idea of having to do this in what’s supposed to be my house disgusts me. Then again, there isn’t much about this situation that isn’t disgusting. Wrong.

I pull off my clothes and leave them in a pile on the tiled floor before hanging one of the stacked towels on a hook outside the shower door. My own bathroom. I wish I could be more enthusiastic about this because I've always dreamed of having my own bathroom. One of those Someday, when I’m rich fantasies. And compared to the tiny little bathroom back at the trailer, this is massive.

I wish I could enjoy it.

Still, the shower is nice, already stocked with all kinds of good-smelling soaps, shampoo, and all kinds of other items I always wanted to buy for myself but never had the money for. I take advantage of all of them, too, using sugar scrub to rid me of the feeling of being soiled and nasty before soaping up. Even the shampoo is better than any I’ve ever used, and I never thought it really made that much of a difference how much a person paid for it. Now I understand. By the time I’m finished rinsing out the thick suds, I think I could get used to living this way.