Susan found that hard to believe. The locks on J-block doors were so temperamental that it required careful alignment; a whispered prayer to Portunus, the Roman god of locks; and the precision of a master surgeon to get the key to work.

There were more muffled sounds behind the door, and Susan fervently hoped that she hadn’t just interrupted someone else’s masturbreak. Although doing that while listening to Enya seemed a bit . . . niche.

“I can go away if you want some private time?” Susan called through the door.

“No! It’s fine! Just doing some meditation . . .”

If that’s what she wants to call it . . . an imaginary Esther muttered, nudging Susan in the side and winking suggestively. Susan’s smile soured at the thought of Esther wasting all her terrible innuendos on someone as humorless as Vectra.

When Daisy finally opened the door, she was breathless and shifty.

“Hi . . .” Susan raised a wary eyebrow. “Meditating, you say?”

But when she tried to peer over Daisy’s shoulder, the door shifted to block her view.

“I’m meeting the Brethren later, so I was just getting in the zone . . .”

“You mean your yoga friends? All those people we saw at breakfast?” She leaned an elbow on the doorframe, fingers ruffling her hair as she studied Daisy intently, watching for a reaction that didn’t come. “Those Zoise guys see more of you than we do.”

“I like yoga.”

“Obviously.” Something was wrong here, but it was hard to know what. “I was wondering if you had time for a cuppa and catch up? Esther’s driving me nuts with this whole Vectra thing—”

“Who?”

“Vectra. The goth girl Esther hasn’t shut up about for the last two weeks.” Susan faltered. “You’ve . . . talked to Esther in the last two weeks, though. Right? I mean, about more than what she’s having for breakfast.”

“Of course! I’ve just been busy with—”

“Yoga. Right.” Susan tapped a fingernail on the jamb. Click, click, click. “Say, why don’t I come to your next session? Find my inner calm.”

But instead of the wide-eyed enthusiasm she’d been expecting, the shutters came down, and Daisy shook her head rapidly.

“No! That’s not good. Jasper said I’m not to recruit any more members.”

“Recruiting?” Susan pounced, her fingernail tapping more insistently on the wood of the frame.

“New members drive. That’s all.” Daisy had grasped too quickly for something that sounded plausible, something inconsistent with her original story. The kind of error the naturally truthful made.

“Except, presumably, the opposite of that? Since you don’t want me to come along . . .” It wasn’t like Daisy to make so little sense. She seemed ruffled and unfocused and a little dazed, her gaze darting around, looking for an escape.

“We’re oversubscribed.”

Click, click, click!