Synopsis

The hum of the machines was a constant presence, a low thrumming that vibrated through the floor and up into Amelia’s fingertips as she sorted the whites. Sunlight streamed through the large windows, illuminating dust motes dancing in the air and casting long shadows across the rows of washing machines. It wasn't glamorous work, but there was a quiet satisfaction in the methodical process, a sense of clean beginnings with each cycle.