Julian stopped two inches short of the bathroom threshold.
He kept the soles of his leather boots firmly planted on the dry maroon wool carpet of the bedroom.
Beside him, Elena held her brass inspection mirror at an angle, peering past the white painted doorframe.
The bathroom was small, tiled from floor to ceiling in glazed white porcelain subway bricks.
Across the doorway lay a solid brass saddle strip, stamped with heavy nineteen-nineties block letters: GRAND HALCYON -- SANITARY MEZZANINE 1996.
Above the pedestal sink, an oval beveled mirror was suspended inside an ornate cast-brass frame.
The silvered glass did not reflect the empty porcelain tub, the chrome fixtures, or the doorway.
The glass was alive with liquid interference, undulating like stagnant water struck by falling rain.
