Nantz stood in the doorway, looking at him. “You have a funeral today,” she announced. “How do you know?” “Word travels in the family,” she said. He had been so absorbed with the previous day’s events that he had forgotten. No wonder Kira had made a run for it. He could hardly move his arm. Nantz was not in uniform. She wore a plain black dress with a short hemline and black pumps with low heels. “What?” she asked, walking in. “Nothing.” “Liar,” she said. She helped him out of bed and led him back to the sink in the shower area. “Shirt off,” she said, an order, not a request. When he didn’t react she said, “Off.” He did as he was told, accepting her help. He stood in front of the little mirror eyeing the gray in his whiskers.
