There’s a table downstairs where the dice do the talking and the House writes down every word. Jobs come in folders. The bullets have numbers on them. Nobody uses names.
You found the door. You knew the word. That’s two more things than most people manage.
— the House
Leave an address.
We’ll send for you when there’s a seat at the table.
We keep your address to tell you when the table opens. Nothing else, and you can leave the list any time. What we do with it.
We know where to find you now.
You came in through the wall. We know where to find you now, and we will remember that you did not use the stairs.
Watch the mail. And the word stays between us — hand it only to people who’d survive the stairs.