I got the clean shirt over my head and spent the next minute trying to get out of it.
The left sleeve had twisted. Pulling with my right hand tightened the cloth across yesterday's bruise; lifting my left arm made it worse. By the time someone knocked, I had worked my head free and was sitting on the bed with the shirt in my lap.
"A moment."
Through the thin wall, somebody said the same thing to someone else. A bucket struck a doorframe farther down the passage.
Ren waited until I opened the door. He had a folded towel under one arm and a paper in his hand. The clock at the stair had just struck six.
"I came at half past," he said. "They wouldn't let me through yet."
I looked past him. The residence attendant was still beside the stair, checking a list against the people coming up.
"Were you waiting there?"
"I took the washing down. They said I could do that first." His eyes moved to my shirt. "Would you like help?"
