Iris, looking like a wraith in gray sleep pants and a shirt with nothing under it, was slowly backing from the tables as the others spoke. She too had been in an interrogation room, and she would not sit unless she had no choice. The spotlight expanded to accommodate her retreat, and she stopped, peering up once to try to find who or what was maneuvering that light, but to no avail.
She did no recognize the two who spoke, gray eyes blank, but as soon as she saw Peter everything about her seem to uncoil, and she moved around the chairs until she was next to him. She didn't say anything in greeting, but smiled a little before turning to the others with a conscious effort to keep her shoulders back and her head up. "It's a nightmare," she said, with certainty.