Daniel pointed down the hall toward the stairs.

“There are clean towels in the bathroom.

Wash your face and go back to bed.

We’ll discuss your resignation letter after breakfast.”

I didn’t answer him, and I didn’t look at Eleanor.

I walked past Daniel into the master bathroom, pulled the solid oak door shut until the latch caught, and turned the brass lock key twice.

The overhead vanity light flickered twice before it came on full and bright above the mirror.

A four-inch strip of bare scalp ran from the nape of my neck up to the crown of my head, bordered by ragged, uneven clumps of shoulder-length hair hanging over my ears.