rest—the architecture of transition itself. Beyond the steam, the walk-through closet receives you not as storage but as decompression chamber, its cedar-lined millwork and soft recessed lighting calibrating the senses between the vulnerability of water and the authority the day ahead demands. Each drawer pull, each illuminated shelf, exists at precisely the height and reach that muscle memory will learn within a week, so that dressing becomes as fluid as the current that just released you. This is where the private body becomes the public self again, and the passage forward leads not back into the house you know but deeper into the compound's