Glynda’s left arm snapped toward the sinks. Yang followed the direction the bossy Huntress was pointing at and saw a sign that depicted three smiling soap bubbles floating over a pair of wet hands. Yang hung her head and trudged to the sink. It was better than trying to argue with Glynda that she didn’t actually use the toilet for anything other than sitting. Besides, the small act of washing her hands only served to preserve Blake’s dignity for a moment longer.