Freya . . The next morning, the soft rays of sunlight fell across my face. My body still tingled—not with the physical sensation but the memory of it. Peeling off the blanket, I crawled out of the bed and trudged towards the bathroom. Although I had my shower last night after m**********g, I still woke up feeling dirty. Call it indoctrination, but after m**********n, there was always this thick feeling that clung to my skin. I usually ignored it, but I couldn’t do it today. The shower was hot against my skin, hotter than usual. I reached for my soap and sponge, scrubbing my body as if trying to wash away my sins. Like I could away the memory of that night. But when I shut my eyes for a moment, the thoughts returned. I exhaled. I stepped out of the bathroom, my towel wrapped aroun

