"And he gave you that?" she gestures at the vial. 

"Yes."

She chews on her lip.

"Did the people who brought you here know?"

"The people at the IKEA itself would have seen him, although I don't know if anyone noticed the necklace."

She sighs. 

"Field agents," she says, "telling me to debrief you without giving me any relevant information. One moment, I need to make a phone call."

"Mm-hm."

She steps out of the room and is back five minutes later.

"Alright," she says, "someone's going to come and talk to you about that necklace. I don't know the details. It's above my paygrade. But, you do need to detox."

She bites her lip and sighs.

"This particular detox is designed for people who have had exposure to other worlds. Mostly, it is soap. But there are a few compounds that we know counteract certain anomalous properties of some other universes. Some universes have types of radiation that don't exist in this universe. Some universes have a property that, it's difficult to describe, but makes you slightly less real. The effect is very gradual, but slowly increases. If you've been exposed to one of those universes, you would gradually find yourself unable to touch or interact with any physical objects, eventually including the planet under you. We also have a general disease inhibitor that prevents the replication of any cells that aren't your own. It's short acting, so shouldn't have time to interfere with digestion, but should keep you safe until we can do more thorough testing."

"That last one does sound like it might be teratogenic, although I guess if it leaves the gut microbiome alone it might not be in practice. Thank you for explaining."

After a moment, she nods.

"It can be, but not if we give you the counter-agent within the next few hours. If we don't, then usually a miscarriage is better than the alternative."

"I'm not pregnant anyway. What do I do with this?" She indicates the necklace.

"Hold on to it. The shower won't hurt it."

"Thanks."

She goes through the shower in the necklace but nothing else.

The shower is tedious and mildly unpleasant but not painful. 

On the other side, there's a t-shirt, underwear and a pair of sweatpants with an adjustable waist in approximately, but not exactly, Miranda's size. 

Good enough. She dresses and emerges.

Dr. Guerrero is waiting for her. 

"I need to do a blood test," she says, "and then there's someone who wants to talk to you. No idea who. Never seen him before in my life."

"All right. What's the test for?"

"Basically, anything unusual or anomalous. We have a list of known diseases we'll check for, but the lab will be doing a more general check as well."

"How much blood are we talking about?"

"A hundred and forty milliliters."

"Mm-hm." She proffers an elbow. "I can stick myself if you didn't do any rotations where you learned to stab black people."

"I think I can manage," she says, amused, "but if you'd prefer to do it yourself, you can."

"I would. Have you got a butterfly needle - oh good -" She sticks herself.

Dr. Guerrero takes the blood away.

A man enters the room. He's practicality radiating nervous energy. His eyes dart around. He taps his fingers against his legs and fidgets constantly.

His eyes settle on Miranda for a moment, before darting away.

"Dr. Kirsch," he says, "It's good to meet you. We got your message. Sorry it took so long. We didn't get the signal the vial had been opened."

"It was inside the IKEA."

"Yes," he says, "we figured that was it. Tell me. If I tell you that SCP-2602, which used to be a library, was in fact never a library at all, what do you say?"