Right. Way to hear him. With a sigh, Eliot started to jog after her. He headed inside the building, waiting to see which room she popped out of before he followed. Just as he expected, a voice floated down his way. A moment later, he leaned against the door frame, arms crossed over his chest.
"I assume all the rooms look like this. Standard institutional, enough to live on, gives just enough personal space. Like keeping minimum security prisoners." Eliot shrugged, unconcerned. "Looks just like mine."