Chapter Fifty-Three

In an environment that once felt chaotic: unfamiliar, uncertain, and crowded by strangers that seldomly ever acknowledge her, she had discovered order. The sound of her shoes squeaking across the tiled floor never brought recognition; not for any reason did she receive, in passing, a simple glance upward or a smile that said hello. The staff had been trained well, keeping their eyes low and their attention toward anything but her. "They get paid to see as little as possible," Miguel's words would echo in her thoughts.  It felt like she were just another statue in the corridor. Eventually, she stopped noticing the staff as well.

She did have daily interactions with Cassandra, although, recently, even she seemed to keep a distance. Their morning conversations over a cup of coffee lasted for around fifteen minutes, consisting of mainly informational topics. Each morning, Cassandra had fixed her hair before work and then applied a light coat of makeup