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After the dishes were cleaned up and put away, the heating ring and rice cooker stowed, the table wiped down, and the benches folded back up into the walls, Seeta tapped open four long, rectangular compartments. Bunks, two on each side of the room. They had more little cabinets inside and little personal touches that made it easy to guess who slept where.
Seeta’s bunk had a lovely handmade afghan folded neatly at the foot of it and a little ledge the perfect size to hold a mug of tea near the pile of decorative pillows at the head of the bunk. A reader had been left out on the bedspread, half tucked under the pillows.
Over her bunk was her sister’s, just as neat if more utilitarian. A stack of folded laundry, all navy-blue jumpsuits, was waiting for her at the foot of the bed.
Emili
