12
Jennifer
The former brothel was a cascade of shadows. Reds and grays and blacks decorated the room, shading the black leather booths in darkness and revealing the brown lacquered bar. We passed the booths, only getting eclipsed views of the people within. They could have been as devious or innocuous as possible, but everything felt charged with energy and awareness.
“This is your room,” the attendant said, stopping before a frosted sliding glass door.
He tapped twice, and the door slid open. Inside, there was a floor-level sunken tub and a dozen people that I’d never met. Half of them had dropped down to their unmentionables and were submerged in the bath. The rest were drinking fancy concoctions.
Chester entered first, and everyone cheered at his presence. “I brought my sister and
