In a sterile white hospital room, someone wakes up naked under a very thin blanket, feeling a peculiar sort of tiredness or sickness, practically unheard of for Miracles.

There is nothing of interest in the room except the medical bed, some kind of jumpsuit lying folded on a small side table, and a windowless door in the corner. Nobody there to greet her, no explanatory signs. The soft, low thrum of some kind of machinery comes through the back wall, barely audible.