Inside the small apartment, Dany sniffs at her shirt – all but vomits in her mouth – and strips the thing off, burying it in the garbage.
After taking a shower, Dany stares at the foggy mirror. After a long moment, and a steeling breath, she swipes at the mirror with a hand towel. First, she wipes away a narrow stripe at the top, revealing the face of a dark-haired girl.
“I’d say you’re at a crossroads,” she tells the girl in the mirror, her voice reasonable. “You can kill yourself now. But, I don’t know, maybe we just play this one through, see if we get lucky?”
The girl in the mirror is without an opinion.
Dany steels herself again. This time, the swipe of her towel reveals the rest of her. But Dany loses the dark-haired girl, because her gaze is pulled inexorably to those arms.
