"I'd like that," the boy mumbles. He's still so cold.

He revives a bit in the shower, standing under the hot water. He feels so guilty, watching the blood flow down the drain, leaving him clean, but Nancy hasn't pressed him on it and he isn't going to press the matter. She can still turn him in, no matter how nice she's been.

His hospital gown is ruined and he shoves it into the trash, hoping no one finds it. He walks out of the bathroom wrapped in a soft towel because there's nothing else for him to wear.

"Do...you have something I can wear?"