With growing desperation, she watched what little money she had disappear. Forced to choose between eating and lodging, she went hungry. She lay awake...at night, weak from hunger, worn from worry, trying to ignore her fleabites and the constant rattling cough of a nearby child. The cellar air was sickly, every breath Rose took was already inhaled and exhaled by a score of other people. With only a few cents remaining, the letter from Kathleen finally came. Rose, Come tomorrow morn to the back. He reached for the jug that was by the side of the bath. Xena turned around so she was sitting between Henry’s legs, Facing away from him, leaving enough room to tilt her head back so that he could soak her long hair. Her eyes closed, not that he ever got water or shampoo in her face. He loved washing her hair, not just for the pleasure that it clearly gave her but because he loved the feel of her hair sliding through his hand. Making her happy made him happy, content even. He felt her hair. More

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