“Ah, look who’s here,” the nurse said, her voice as flat as her expression. She gave you a quick once-over, then waved Mary off. “Alright, Mary, you can go.”

Mary smiled that same forced, professional smile she’d had all day, then nodded to the security guard before they both left. The door closed with a hollow thud, leaving you alone with the nurse in the small, sterile room.

She moved to a cupboard, pulling out a plastic bag. “Let’s get you changed,” she said, setting out a white shirt, trousers, and socks—plain and cold, like a hospital gown. You took the uniform reluctantly and began changing, the stiff fabric feeling unnervingly soft.

The nurse collected your belongings—your phone, shoes, and belt—into the plastic bag without a word. "These will be kept in storage," she said, sealing it away. Then, without any emotion, she added, "Now, I'll take you to your room and get you some meds. Then it's dinner."