The room was white in a way that made it difficult to tell where one surface ended and another began. Even the corners were so obscure that it was hard to tell where they were.
But it wasn't bright, wasn't sterile in the way people expected.
The light came from narrow panels set high into the walls, diffused through layers of frosted glass that softened everything until shadows barely existed. The effect was flattening. Nothing was able to hide from those who watched and nothing really stood out.
Sera sat where she had been told to sit, her hands resting loosely in her lap, and her ankles crossed the way she had learned kept her from being repositioned without warning. The bench beneath her was smooth and faintly warm, molded to discourage movement without openly restraining it.
She did not fidget.
