Room 219 was Miss Sanchez's room. There was the little boys' room. Room 217 was Mr. Storey's room. Oh, shit.I walked back to the boys' room, still not...quite believing that the school administration had actually assigned it a number. Other than Freddy Richardson, who had cornered all the drug-dealing at the school, who needed to identify a specific bathroom? But there it was in small numerals, two-one-eight. I hesitantly pushed the door open and saw my bag beneath the two sinks."Madame?" I said. ’ ‘No, Camille, just prepared.’ ‘Where are we going?’ she asked, changing the subject. ‘St. Louis. We’re going to meet my partner and decide our next move.’ ‘Do you think we could stop somewhere? I need a shower and these clothes are filthy. You could stand a good washing yourself,’ she grimaced, wrinkling her nose as if he smelled bad. Grinning like the Niko of her memory, he winked at her. ‘I kinda like smelling you on my body.’ A rude grunt was the only answer he got, as a deep blush crept. More

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