I’m beginning to question my judgment. After my nearly disastrous rescue attempt, I swore that, as long as I had food and water, I would never again step foot outside my castle. Of course, I was slightly delirious at the time, and naively left Shelly out of my reckoning.
I’m reminded of the old saying about women: Can’t live with them; can’t live without them. Only in Shelly’s case, the saying is literal. If I let her stay, she’s going to get me killed. I swear, the next time she tries talking me into scavenging for “feminine supplies,” I’ll let her go alone. Why can’t she just be grateful for what she’s got? I’ll bet there are plenty of you out there who don’t even have running water. So what’s so life or death important about ‘salon’ shampoo? Why can’t she just wash her hair with dish soap like I do? Soap’s soap, isn’t it?