I glare at him. This definitely feels like a conspiracy to imprison me here. And his suggestion of a bath—and a sound sleep—almost made me laugh. There’s no way I’d ever feel comfortable enough in Adam Wright’s house to get naked and bathe, let alone catch a wink of sleep. I play my trump card. ‘I don’t have a change of clothes. I don’t even have a toothbrush! I can’t turn up at work tomorrow looking like this.’
