"I lost my key on the first day of the vacation," she admitted, her tone as casual as if she'd told me she'd dropped a pen.
When I asked her when exactly she'd lost it, she didn't bother with any roundabout answers. She just laid it all out, plain and simple. No hesitation, no sugarcoating, just the raw truth tossed out like it was nothing.
"Wait, the first day?"
That was weeks ago. The vacation was practically over now, with only a few fleeting days left.
"Yeah," she said, stretching her arms above her head, her shirt riding up just enough to reveal a sliver of her stomach. She yawned lazily. "Not sure exactly when, but somehow, I lost my key somewhere."
"So... where the hell have you been sleeping this whole time?"
"Anywhere my legs gave out," she replied with a shrug. "The gymnasium, the library, even on a cold-ass bench by the fountain. Oh, and I've been using your bathroom. I haven't had a decent shower anywhere else."