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The door opened. Genna didn’t know how much time had passed, but it felt like hours. Hours she had spent either pacing the room or sitting on the cot and staring blankly at the wall screen. The wall screen that refused to recognise her.
A trooper entered. He—or maybe it was a she, it was so hard to tell with their bodies and faces so totally covered—carried a tray. Another trooper stood behind, with a weapon at the ready.
The trooper with the tray took a step forward then bent down, placing the tray on the floor before rising and taking a step back. They uttered no word, and Genna couldn’t even be sure if they looked at her. Then the door shut.
She took the few steps across to the door. The bowl was covered, and when Genna lifted the lid, a cloud of steam wafted up to re
