Linsy scrubbed her skin raw. The bathroom air, thick and humid, was a confusing counterpoint to the lingering faint scent of gardenias, her favorite perfume, a desperate, floral screen for the stench she was trying to eradicate. She’d used an excessive amount of facial cleanser, the foam nearly spilling over the sink basin, and had followed it up with liberal pumps of hand sanitizer and shower gel, all in a frantic, almost ritualistic attempt to cleanse herself.

It’s just a bad habit, she ...