"Okay. I'll take the depressing room."

Marian leads her to a small room that is the equivalent of the average hotel room, but lacking paintings or color. It has a tv like on would expect in a hotel room. There's also a tablet on the bedside table, which Miranda can't log into but can access in guest mode.

There's a kitchenette with a fridge containing a small variety of pre-prepared foods.

Marian points out an intercom near the door Miranda can use if she needs to talk to anyone. 

Miranda thanks her. She eats some food. She pokes around on the tablet. She goes to sleep.

The next morning Marian knocks on her door and asks to finish the interview when Miranda is ready.

They leave her alone for the rest of the day. Marian returns that evening to tell Miranda she can leave and that they have a car to take her home. She seems puzzled, but is trying to hide it. 

"I don't have my keys and don't know if Ned will be there. Can I just call him?"

"I believe your personal effects were found to be non-anomalous and released. They should be at the car."

"Does that include my phone?"

"No, I'm sorry. Some of the information contained within had memetic properties. We may be able to provide you with a redacted backup of your notes, but data erasure is not always completely effective in clearing memetic so releasing the phone is against procedure."

"Can I borrow a phone?"

"Sure," she says and leads Miranda back to the conference room so she can use the phone there. 

Miranda dials Ned's number.

"Kirsch."

"Ned, it's me, I'm okay."

"Miranda! How - what happened to - do I need to come get you - where are you -"

"It's more complicated than you're going to guess but I'm fine and someone's going to drop me off at home soon. I just wanted to call first. Are you home?"

"Yes, I'm home - are you hungry or - anything -"

"No, no need to put dinner on, love. I'll see you soon, okay, this is a landline so..."

"Okay. I love you - God, I thought -"

"I know. I'm sorry, this was the soonest I could get to a phone."

"I'll be here."

"An hour give or take," she estimates. "I love you." And she hangs up.

"Should I take you to the car?"

"Yes, thank you."

The car isn't a van this time. The driver nods at Miranda but doesn't say anything. Her clothes and keys are in a plastic bag in the back.

"Am I going to need to return these?" she asks, tugging the hem of her borrowed shirt. "And how do I get in touch?"