Zack stared at the pools of water on his bathroom floor. If showering was going to become a regular thing, he really should move the faucet repair up on his list of priorities. Or at least invest in a shower curtain. He ran a towel over his hair to stop it from dripping and began the search for clothes that would meet DaEvo’s minimum hygiene levels.
He pulled a T-shirt from the top of the nearest pile of clothes and held it up to his nose. Not the worst, but not exactly fresh. He doused it with a lemon-scented cleaning spray left behind by the last housekeeper and put it on.
The pants were more difficult. Why did none of them fit? It was weird that all of them had shrunk when they hadn’t been washed recently. Finally, Zack found a pair of stretchy sweats shoved under a chair. He gave the
