up residence in the far corner. In the rear of the room are two additional doors. One leads to a full en suite bathroom, the other into a small walk-in closet. Folded at the foot of each bed are a pair of gray pajamas and a white t-shirt.
“What is this place?” Zoë quizzically asks.
“I’m somewhere between prison and dorm room,” I say while dropping my bag on a bed.
I walk over to the desk and notice a white envelope addressed to us. “Look. We have mail.”
“Open it. Maybe it explains something.”
I carefully slide my finger under the taped point of the fold and slide out the paper inside. My eyes scan the page, reading over the information. “What is it?”
“An itinerary. Looks like we have orientation in an hour.”
“Okay—that’s freaky. How did they know when we would get here?”
“Maybe my dad filled them in?”
I turn and look at the television. “Think they have cable in here?” I ask, knowing we both could stand to let our minds go blank for a while.
“I sure hope so. TV has never sounded so good.”
Zoë grabs the remote off the coffee table and flips the screen on. SpongeBob’s laugh floods the room as the picture on the screen fades in. She turns to look at me and we both chuckle. “When was the last time we watched SpongeBob together?” she asks.
I look around the sterile room, my smile fading. “I don’t know, Zoë. Relaxing doesn’t really feel like an option in here. Don’t you think it’s weird that nobody has come to talk to us yet?”
She makes herself comfortable in an armchair. “Well, you keep a lookout then. I need to zone out for a few. Besides, you said we have an hour, right?”
“Yeah. I guess. I’m just really on alert right now.”
I pull the orientation schedule back out and run my eyes over the paper. I read the words but nothing sticks in my brain. I read them twice more before giving up and expending some of my nervous energy by pacing the room.
Just as the episode of SpongeBob is coming to an end, a horn flares once followed by an announcement from the robotic female voice. “Orientation will begin in fifteen minutes. Please proceed to the common room.”
The announcement is followed by a surprise knock at our door. Already on edge from the unexpected voice echoing loudly through the halls, we jump and gasp at the intrusion. I scramble for the remote and flip off the television.
Zoë opens the door to the man who led us to our room, waiting to escort us to orientation. He steps into the room, uninvited. “Miss Owens, did you secure your belongings in your safe?”
“Uh, I didn’t realize there was one.”
He opens the closet door and points out where the safe is located. I am able to program my own code to the door, which makes me feel somewhat safer about leaving my bag holding the journals and the grimoire behind. After locking everything in the safe, he hands me a key to our room. “You may lock the door behind you for added peace of mind. This is not a privilege provided to temporary residents, so please be honored by it.”
I take the key from his hand, feeling incredibly awkward about both his formality and by the fact that we seem to be receiving special treatment. “Thank you,” I manage to mutter out.
As he and Zoë step into the hall, I lock the door and check it for good measure before sliding the key into my pocket. The horn flares again, followed by another announcement. “Orientation will begin in ten minutes. Please proceed to the common room immediately.”
We follow him down two seemingly endless hallways toward the common room. Very few other people pass us and each one of them is wearing the same gray suit that he is. We come to a stop when we reach a set of black double doors. “This is the common room. Please make yourselves comfortable. Orientation will begin in a few moments.”
He holds one of the doors to the common room open for us. We thank him and step inside. Just inside the door is an open area with tables and chairs. Stairs descend on either side of the room into five rows of plush red seats with a small wooden stage situated at the bottom. The room is diffusely lit. Recessed lighting on the high ceiling is dimmed very low. There are a handful of small spotlights