The men were nowhere to be found; Alexandra waited alone for Luca by the sauna, her body wrapped in a towel. However, the sauna was cold and empty, so they decided to go to the steam bath instead.

The world became a foggy maze; how many halls, how many rooms could there be in one steam bath? In the thick vapor Luca saw nothing but Alexandra’s blurry outline. She reached a bench, threw off the towel, and turned towards Luca. Luca dropped her own towel on the bench, but then she had no idea whether to sit or stand. She looked at Alexandra to follow her lead; the woman remained standing, holding a shower­head in her hands. Luca’s gaze swept over her naked body. There were scars that she couldn’t make out very well in the steam. Luca thought they must have been burns, maybe a car accident or some other tragedy. But no, she realized, those weren’t burn marks.

‘Bite marks,’ Alexandra explained with a smile, turning so that Luca could clearly see the marks stretching over her rib cage and breasts and backside as well. Luca leaned closer to make out the marks through the steam, and now she recognized the pattern of the teeth, dozens of bites mapping out a relationship of pain.

Water burst from the showerhead. Alexandra washed herself and sprayed some water on the wall as well, covering the room in even more suffocating and blinding steam. Her silhouette disappeared in the thick mist, and Luca thought herself lost forever, without any way out of the steam bath maze.

But Alexandra appeared by her side again, so close that her breasts brushed against Luca’s arm. She pressed Luca up against the wall. Luca felt the wet, hot tiles behind her and swallowed hard. Alexandra flashed her teeth; they were white, healthy, perfect. She leaned toward Luca’s neck, swept over her skin with her tongue, then placed her teeth on her shoulder. She squeezed a little, with the promise of a bite, but she didn’t actually sink her teeth into the flesh. Luca wanted to whimper; if she was bitten now the scar would stay there forever, an eternal imprint of the holiday. Instead of memories and photographs, a disfiguration, a defect, so when she looked in the mirror she would always think of the pain instead of the the restful hours.

Alexandra let her go and returned to the bench.

‘You two should try it,’ she said. ‘It strengthens a relationship.’

They relaxed some more in the steam bath, then they set out to find somewhere else to relax.

The lunch was spoiled; they found worms in the meatloaf, you could smell the stench of the chicken tarragon soup from far away, and the Black Forest gateau was covered in mold. The restaurant stood all but deserted, only a handful of tourists loitered around, all shaking their heads at the sight of the rotten food.