Page 16 of Hidden Echoes

There’s a squelching noise as she follows my instructions. “It’s slimy,” she comments.

“It’s soap,” I reply dryly. “Rub it on yourself. Everywhere. That’s how you get clean.”

“Everywhere?” she echoes, her tone hesitant.

“Yes, everywhere,” I say, my patience thinning. “Arms, legs, back—”

“Even my face?”

“Yes, Mia, even your face.”

She’s quiet for a moment, and then I hear her mutter, “This is complicated.”

“It’s really not,” I say, running a hand through my hair. “People do it every day. Now, once you’re soaped up, rinse yourself off with the water.”

“Okay,” she says, and I hear the water splashing as she follows my instructions.

I risk a glance over my shoulder—just a quick one, to make sure she’s not accidentally drowning herself or something—and immediately regret it. Her back is to me, but that’s still more skin than I wanted to see. I snap my head forward so fast I almost give myself whiplash.

Focus, Zane. This is not the time to lose your cool.

“Alright, now shampoo,” I say, pointing blindly toward the shower rack. “It’s the bottle with the green cap.”

“What’s shampoo?”

“It’s for your hair,” I explain. “Put some in your hands, rub it into your scalp, and then rinse it out.”

There’s another pause, and then she says, “This smells really good.”

“Yeah, great. Just don’t drink it,” I say, only half-joking.

I hear her laughing softly, and for a second, I forget about how weird this whole situation is. Her laugh is warm and genuine, and it catches me off guard.

“Alright, now conditioner,” I say, keeping my tone brisk to mask the slight blush creeping up my neck. “It’s the other bottle. Same process, but leave it in for a minute before rinsing.”

“Got it,” she says, and for once, she actually sounds confident.

I wait, leaning against the doorframe with my arms crossed, listening to the sound of the water. It’s oddly calming, knowing that she’s in there, figuring this out for the first time.

Finally, she turns off the water and calls out, “I’m done!”

I grab the towel I’d set aside earlier and hold it out behind me without turning around. “Here. Dry off and wrap this around yourself.”

She takes the towel, and I hear the soft rustling of fabric as she dries off. “Okay, you can look now,” she says.

I turn around cautiously and find her standing there, wrapped securely in the towel, her hair dripping wet but clean. She’s smiling at me, her eyes bright with an innocence that feels out of place given everything she’s been through.

“How’d I do?” she asks, as if this was some kind of test.

“You didn’t drown, so I’d say you passed,” I reply, a small smile tugging at my lips.

“Nice,” she says, her voice carrying a genuine, childlike happiness that tugs at something deep in my chest. Her smile lights up her face, and for a second, it’s like the blood, the chaos, the insanity of the last few hours don’t exist. She’s just a girl, clean and warm, discovering something new.

I catch myself smiling back before I know it, shaking my head slightly at how her excitement is strangely contagious. She’s like a little spark of sunshine in the middle of my storm.

“Alright, let’s get you some clothes,” I say, clearing my throat and turning away before I lose myself in that smile.

I rummage through the bag Charlie had sent over, pulling out a simple outfit—a soft gray sweatshirt and a pair of black leggings. Something comfortable. Something easy. I hand them to Mia, and she stares at them like they’re a puzzle she’s not sure how to solve.

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