Above the sink, a small square mirror hung from a rusty nail in the plaster wall.

The glass was dull with old water spots and soap scum around the frame, reflecting the bare bulb hanging from the ceiling.

I dried Theodore off with a rough towel and looked at my reflection in the dirty motel mirror, setting my jaw as my fingers found the hard shape of the burner phone in my coat pocket.

I took the small dark burner phone out of my coat pocket and set it on the laminate nightstand next to my blue ledger notebook.

Theodore was asleep under the thin motel blanket, his fever eased for now by the store-bought medicine I had paid for with my last twenty dollars.