The mid-day sun baked the terracotta tiles of the bright courtyard as Dany White stood over the concrete lavadero, elbow-deep in soapy water. The heavy, sweet scent of floral fabric softener hung in the warm Mexican air, mixing with the distant sounds of street vendors and traffic.
A few feet away, Tigre leaned casually against a sun-bleached yellow stucco wall. He lazily tossed a wooden clothespin into the air and caught it, a wry, amused grin on his face as he watched Dany wrestle with a tangled pile of heavy wet jeans.
Meanwhile, Attach was focused entirely on the logistics of the operation. Moving quietly under the shade of a blossoming pink bougainvillea bush, Attach expertly strung up a makeshift clothesline, to hang the freshly washed laundry out to bake in the dry afternoon heat.
