Two

Tasha sighs, and it’s the only sound in the quiet bathroom. It echoes off the walls.

She’s lying down in the tub, her arms folded beneath her head. She looks incredibly uncomfortable, but she doesn’t complain.

I’m standing, frozen, staring at the door because I’m too much of a wuss to turn around and look at the test on the counter. I memorize the grain and the grooves etched into the wood. I’m