Another bit of the story
The voice was the one she heard in dreams—nightmares more than dreams—that she’d had since she was a child. Since her parents disappeared. No one paid much attention to disappearing parents. Best not to ask. Best not to delve too deep. If they came for you, it was for a reason. There were lots of Jeannies around, brought up in institutions. If they heard voices, they had never said.
“Hello, Jeannie. It’s time.”
She had been expecting that too. The way a fugitive expects that the only door out of the maze of corridors will be locked.