We passed the ladies’ restrooms on the way through the women’s lounge, and I found that I couldn’t escape the thoughts of Steffanie, even here. Her attacker had dropped her underwear into the toilet bowl, a bloom of pink lace under a murk of waterlogged toilet paper. Earlier that night we’d felt admitted to a new kind of existence, as the bouncers eyed our obviously fake IDs and still slashed Xs on the backs of our hands with black marker, and when the bartender poured us each a double shot of rum for the price of a single. The memory made me dig my nails into my palms. The world was always conspiring to make young women vulnerable while labeling it as “fun.” Made it seem like we were in control, like we were making all the choices, and then it was our fault when things went wrong. Us and our short skirts, our makeup, our taste for rum, for liking the things we were told to like, wanting what we were taught to want.

Deidre led me out to the lobby again, and I was relieved to see that Emily had arrived. “Lily, I’ll leave you in Emily’s capable hands for the time being. She will walk you through check-in and scheduling procedures. At two o’clock please come to my office, and we will review the material from the training manual, including etiquette, preferred language, and wardrobe expectations. And please, for your next shift take care to apply some powder.”

“I will,” I said, flushing as I brought my fingers to my forehead. Emily and I were silent as we listened to Deidre click click click away.

“So, you’re here after all. Brave of you to join us. How’s your morning with the Skeletor been?”

“Oh. She’s not that bad …” I was already thinking of Deidre’s bony wrists, how her upper arm was so narrow I could probably close my pointer finger and thumb around it.

“Bullshit,” she said, smiling. Her real smile, as far as I could tell, was slyer than the one she saved for Deidre. Mouth closed, eyes crinkled, a slight wrinkling of her nose. “If by not bad you mean totally sadistic, sure. Anyway, if I’m supposed to show you check-in, let’s get to it.” She tapped a button on the keyboard in front of her, and the computer screen came to life. “Our software is from like 1994, so it sucks. This company invests everything in product research and marketing so they probably won’t upgrade during either of our tenures here. For now we will just have to deal. Here’s the check-in screen. Notice anything?”

I did. There was a lot of blank space next to each time slot.