She stands at the center of a long, white corridor. Perfectly straight, like a spine. Doors on either side, evenly spaced. Each one shut.

Behind her, the first door she passed. To her right and left, more doors. And at the far end of the hall, one last door, slightly ajar.

The only sound is the buzz. And the soft, occasional shuffle of movement from behind those closed doors.

She is not alone.