Janice’s stomach churned with pain as she stared, transfixed, into the distance. She leaned down to the pitcher pump and lifted the handle. Water gurgled and splashed into the bucket, flowing more freely than she’d seen in a long time. But the water wasn’t clear; she could only imagine the bacteria teeming within. She poured the murky liquid into the tub and repeated the process for what seemed like an hour.

  Finally, she dropped the bucket and began to pull down her jeans. A sharp sting shot through her leg as the denim slid down, revealing purple skin and a long scar down her thigh. She winced in pain, lifting her legs to step into the tub. She kept her panties on, clinging to some sense of privacy. She tried to see if Hanish was watching her from even a small crack in his wall, though she felt she knew this stranger well enough to believe he wasn’t.

  Janice glanced down at the bloodstain on her arm, a stark reminder of how long it had been since she’d last seen her reflection, let alone bathed. She sat there, letting the water wash over her. She couldn’t bring herself to touch her body. It was too painful. She clasped her hands together and began to cry. “Spare clothes,” she choked out. She had nothing. The blood-stained clothes lying in the dirt were all she had left.

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  She looked up to see Hanish with his hand covering his eyes, throwing a towel over the chicken coop. She chuckled weakly at the image. He said nothing to her and returned to the house. She grabbed the towel and dried herself off. She stood up and leaned over to step out of the tub. She gathered her clothes and hugged them tight to her chest. “Do you have any spare clothes?”

  Hanish, without looking up from the couch where he was whittling at a piece of wood with a knife, pointed towards his bedroom door. “Some of Aleaha’s stuff is in there.”

  She entered the room. An untouched bed sat in the middle, its torn blanket and flat, unfluffed pillows adding to the room’s disarray.

  Turning to the closet, she opened it. Women’s dresses hung on the rack, all size medium and made of floral cotton. Aleaha, she thought, must have embodied the perfect homestead housewife. Janice noticed a few scrubs pushed to the back, a size large. Besides the women’s clothes, there were also men’s clothes. She grabbed a yellow shirt that looked like an extra large, figuring that Hanish wouldn’t mind if she borrowed it.

  Folding the shirt over her arm, she walked to the mirror on the closet wall, nearly stumbling back in shock at her reflection.