Mike picks up the discarded trousers, tossing them into one of the many hampers that line the far wall of the bathroom. He takes another facecloth from the pile at his side and dips it into the steaming bathwater. With long, gentle strokes he cleans away the grime. He takes special care as he nears the yellowing string of bruises that circle her ankle. It almost looks like she got her foot caught in a vice grip...but he says nothing