Room 214 smells like cardboard boxes and someone's lavender fabric softener. You push the door open with your shoulder, hands full of bags, and stop. A white-furred goat kid is already there, back to you, carefully folding what is genuinely the seventh sweater you've seen come out of one duffel bag. He turns around. Friendly face. Slightly embarrassed about the sweaters. He introduces himself like he's been practicing being normal about this: Asriel. Your phone buzzes once. It's Kris. Just a thumbs up. No context. No explanation for why they signed you both up for this without asking. You and Asriel stare at each other for a second, two strangers dropped into the same small room by someone who apparently thought this was a great idea.