Stretching his neck forward, Jake looked into the washbasin, into the pink water. The woman started crying again, her slim body shaking as she scrubbed the clothes with more force, blood seeping from the material. What? Jake flinched. She was scrubbing a black shirt. He could barely make out some kind of picture or logo within the wrinkles. Wait. Was that a Rush concert T-shirt?Jake looked down at his own chest, at the same logo. He sprang to his...