Gwenda's heart squeezed. "What is it?" she replied in a low voice.

"I forgot my towel," Olivier said, his low voice making Gwenda's ears burn. "Could you bring it over?"

Gwenda swallowed nervously. "There's a clean one in the bathroom"

"I only use mine when I'm outside," he explained.

Olivier's logic was sound, and he didn't forget to urge her. "Gwenda, hurry up!"

Her ears burning red, Gwenda couldn't refuse. "Um, sure. Where is it? I'll get it."

"It's in my suitcase. The passcode is triple six."

"Okay."

Gwenda left her room. She entered Olivier's, found his suitcase, placed it on the floor, and unlocked it. His clothes were the first thing she saw. Rummaging around, she found his towel. As she picked it up, something fell out—a pair of black underwear.

An explosion seemed to go off in her brain; her face flushed instantly. Without thinking, she hurriedly stuffed the underwear back into the suitcase and shut it. She couldn't let him know she'd touched something so personal. There was no way she could explain it.

Guilt-stricken, Gwenda patted her chest, then stared at her inexplicably hot fingers. She had to calm down. After a few deep breaths, she recomposed herself and left Olivier's room.

As she closed the door, Melanie's voice startled her. "Gwenda, why are you coming out of Olivier's room?"

Gwenda, feeling guilty, stammered, "No—I… I was just helping Mr. Petit retrieve his towel."

"Retrieve his towel?" Melanie gave her a searching look, her expression unreadable.

Fearing a misunderstanding, Gwenda explained, "He said his bathroom light was out, so he's using my bathroom to shower."

"Oh, I see." Melanie's expression shifted from unreadable to suggestive, a knowing smile playing on her lips.

Gwenda felt she was only making things worse. "Granny, it's not what you think…"

"It's alright. You're youngsters after all! It's normal for youngsters to be up to all sorts of hijinks! Go on, have fun showering!" Melanie turned and entered her room, leaving Gwenda no chance to explain.

"What bloody nonsense is this…" Gwenda sighed.

A few minutes later, Gwenda returned to her room and knocked on the bathroom door. "Mr. Petit, your towel."

"Right," Olivier replied.

He cracked open the door, releasing a puff of steam before reaching out with a wet arm. Gwenda stared, distracted, at his hand.

"Gwenda…" he called.

Jolted back to reality, she blushed. "Oh, here you are!" She placed the towel in his hand and started to leave, but he grabbed her arm.

Gwenda's heart lurched. Looking up in surprise, she saw Olivier standing behind the door. "What took you so long?" he asked in a low voice.

The image of the black underwear flashed in Gwenda's mind. "It wasn't that long. It only took a while," she said guiltily.

"Really?"

"Y-yes." Gwenda tried to pull her arm free. "Let go of me and go back to your shower."

"Okay." Olivier, seemingly oblivious, released her and closed the door.

Gwenda felt as if she'd survived a disaster. She slumped against the wall, sighing with relief. What a fright! For a moment, she thought he was going to pull her inside. Fortunately, nothing happened. She seemed to be scaring herself all night.

By the time Olivier emerged from the bathroom, Gwenda was in bed, pretending to sleep to avoid him. He approached the bed slowly, crouching beside it. Gazing at her, he asked, "Are you asleep?"