Maks. That’s what she calls him when they’re alone. Fucking Maks. The only reason I don’t break the door to the bathroom open is because I have a better plan. I remove my shirt, shoes, pants, and boxer briefs, then hang them in one of the lockers. After I wrap a towel around my waist, I head to the sauna and add more charcoal to the pit, making it unbearably hot. Then I lounge on the wooden bench, watching the entrance. A few minutes later, Sasha appears at the door, wearing a bathrobe. Her hair is longer now, falling to her nape. Usually, she ties it in a small ponytail, but not right now.
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