Marian wanted a shower. She wanted to shower and change her clothes and feel clean again. But she rather stink to high heaven with knotted hair the same clothes she arrived in than let the Sheriff think he was winning in anyway. When the door opened today, Marian was lying across the foot of the bed staring blankly at whichever episode of this tiny house show she was up to. She didn't care.
Today when he spoke she didn't move, couldn't even find the energy to sit up and face him. Her cheek was too heavy against the blankets. It had only been sixteen days, but Marian was starting to really feel it now.