“You researched the room diagram?”
“I researched the hotel.”
“Of course.”
The elevator opened. We stepped inside alone. Mirrored walls reflected us from every side. Amy looked at the key card.
“Are you uncomfortable?”
I had not expected the question.
“Nervous.”
“So am I.”
The honesty softened the situation.
“We have rules,” I said.
“The rules have performed poorly.”
“We have maturity.”
“Unverified.”
“We have Rose in the building.”
“Threatening.”
The elevator doors opened. Our room was at the end of the hall. Amy unlocked it. We entered. The king bed occupied most of the room. The chaise lounge was eighteen inches wide and curved upward at both ends. I stared. Amy looked at the online diagram on her phone.
“The scale was misleading.”
“That is furniture fraud.”
“There is one chair.”
The chair was made of wood and clearly designed to discourage sitting. I dropped the luggage.
I set one pillow down the center of the mattress like a border marker. “We share the bed.”
Amy added the second pillow to the barrier. “No.”
“Amy.”
“I can sleep on the chaise.”
“You are racing.”
“You are taller.”
“Exactly. I physically cannot fit.”
“The floor.”
I pressed one palm to the hotel carpet and held it up for inspection. “No.”
“We can ask Tessa to drive here with a camping mat.”
