[Riven's POV]
The holding area which is what Gordon called it....felt like a doctor's waiting room....with white walls that made it seem like an actual dental waiting room to be exact.
Plastic chairs arranged in neat rows, fluorescent lighting that hummed with persistent irritation, and the kind of institutional beige walls that made it even more...damned.
Riven sat among a dozen other people who'd been deemed worthy of evaluation but not yet worthy of trust.
To his left, a middle-aged man with burn scars covering half his face stared at his hands with the hollow expression of someone who'd seen too much.
And to his right, a young woman maybe Elena's age clutched a backpack like it contained everything she owned....which it probably did.
"How long have you been waiting?" Riven asked the scarred man quietly.
