She looked up and studied herself in the mirror, shook her wrist, and habitually turned around, pulling a plain white towel, and began to dry her hands.
The rough towel passed over her skin, and the chill in the palms of her hands gradually faded as she placed the towel back where it belonged.
The moment she placed her hand on the doorknob, Zhou Sinin always felt that something was amiss.
Suddenly, she realized that something was off.
Off.
Really off.
This towel was new!
A new towel in itself was not a problem, but how could all the towels be new?
Could it be that he didn't shower last night?
A bolt of lightning struck her mind, like a ladder naturally descending from the heavens, piercing through the thick barrier between imagination and reality.
With doubts rising anew, Zhou Sinin looked again at everything in the bathroom.
The towel hadn't been moved, nor had the bath towel.
And there were untouched, newly opened toiletries.
Indeed, it was strange.
