Azzurra pulled the bundle of clothes inside, shutting the door with a firm click before sliding the lock into place. Her eyes fell on the garment a lone button-up shirt, nothing more.

She slipped it on without a sound, fastening each button one by one. The fabric hung loosely against her frame, its hem brushing well past mid-thigh while the sleeves swallowed her hands entirely. The collar kept slipping off her shoulders, forcing her to tug it back up again and again.

Grabbing the towel, she ...