PAULINE
The water ran hot enough to steam. I let it fill the tub while I stood at the sink, washing my face as I examined it in the mirror. The same ritual I performed every morning. Checking for new lines. New signs of age trying to creep in where they weren't welcome.
Behind me, beyond the bathroom door, I heard movement.
Number Four was still in my chambers. I wondered if she considered doing it again. Senselessly hurting herself.
But her self inflicted suffering seemed to have given her some sense.
She was doing something.
The sound was wet and rhythmic. Like cloth dragging across the floor. She was cleaning up her own blood. Good. At least she had that much sense left after her pathetic display.
I picked up my serum. The expensive one I'd ordered from overseas. I applied it in gentle upward strokes the way the facialist had instructed. Everything had to be upward. Fighting gravity. Fighting time.
A soft sob filtered through the door.
