The first man Moira encountered inside was very tall and very thin; his eyes were shards of black beneath thick eyebrows, and in one hand he grasped a bundle of file folders. His lips were moving but emitting no words. He wouldn’t have even noticed Moira had she not stopped him with a question.

“Excuse me,” she said, “but could you tell me how to get to room 133A?”

“Room 133A,” said the man. “I’ve heard of that.” He shifted his folders from the one hand to the other, rubbed his chin, reversed the folders, then straightened himself around his long spine, as if preparing to go. Was he actually, Moira wondered, going to walk away? No, Moira thought, he absolutely couldn’t, and so she decided to detain him. She stepped ...

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