Dragging the now clean laundry basket up the stairs felt like a minor workout—like my reward should’ve been a slice of cake and not a bunch of folding.
I carried the warm basket of clean clothes back to my room, the scent of detergent clinging to my fingers. It smelled better now—normal. Like lavender and something that could almost pass for peace. I took my time folding each shirt, each pajama pant, each hoodie like it might disintegrate in my hands. I half expected to find another crusty surprise, but nope. This batch was safe.
At least, for now.
Once everything was neatly folded and stacked away in my wardrobe, I turned to the darker task. Literally.
The bag of stained clothes was still by my door. Just sitting there like a rotten secret. The longer I looked at it, the heavier it fe
