Antonio was reading the paper in the lounge the next morning when Alecia walked in barefoot, a mug of cold coffee in her hand. Her hair was tangled at the ends, and she hadn’t bothered with a robe. Just an old hoodie that wasn’t hers and a pair of pajama shorts that barely showed under it.

He glanced at her once and went back to reading. “You’ve been here for a week.”

She flopped down into the seat opposite him, pulling her feet up. “Good morning to you too.”

“I didn’t ask ...