The warm water cascades down the back of your neck as you kneel against the bathtub, your fingers massaging shampoo into your hair. Your eyes remain tightly shut, soap stinging your skin, rendering you momentarily blind.

With one hand, you reach out, searching for the edge of the bathtub to place the bottle of shampoo back. But your fingers fumble, unable to find it.

Then, suddenly—someone helps. A steady hand, cold against the steam-heated air, gently guides yours to the ledge.

Your breath catches.

Your heart stops.

You are supposed to live alone.