After the meals and visit to the nurse, I went to my new bedroom. Upon entering, I was surprised to find Sorrel sitting on the bed waiting for me. It was early evening, just before dinner, and she wasn’t dressed in the gray uniform that I would soon wear, but in a white dress covered by a white apron—a uniform I’d never seen on anyone. Her chestnut hair was shaped into a straight cut ending at her chin; a handkerchief held it away from her intelligent brown eyes. But the most notable difference was a scabbed gash on her left cheek. I was certain it hadn’t been there when she’d arrived.
“I work in the laundry,” she explained after we broke from a friendly embrace. “Washing, drying, ironing.I’ve lost more weight from folding endless uniforms and walking up and down the stairs. Some things a
