The world begins to settle. It's still too bright--everything is saturated in a way she's not used to. She squints at the odd door.

Maybe it'll take her back. But--she rubs a hand across the hollow ache in her chest. She's not sure she can take another transition like that; certainly not again so soon.

With one hand still trailing along the wall, she walks gingerly down the hall. The place doesn't feel dangerous, but that's a feeling from outside. Her feelings inside are pretty awful, and she can't tell which one is right.