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wasn’t smiling, my lip was swollen and half my face was puffy. Oh well. At least it wouldn’t be going in a yearbook. I shoved the card in the pocket of my sweats.
    “Have a seat. Mr. Madsen will be with you shortly.”
    I sat on one of the chairs and saw a stack of magazines piled on the table next to me. I dug through them, but nothing looked interesting. They were either exercise magazines or magazines about eating healthy. Instead, I leaned my head back and stared at the ceiling, pretending the Enforcer wasn’t sitting five feet away from me.
    “You must be Morgan.”
    Jerking my head up, I saw a thin man with a balding head approaching. He didn’t look like he was much taller than me.
    “I’m Mr. Madsen.” He stopped next to my chair. “Welcome to Camp Willowmoss.”
    Camp Willowmoss. He said it like it was a summer camp of some kind. Like people came here by choice.
    “Let’s go talk in my office.” Then he turned and walked down the hallway.
    I followed him into his office and sat in the chair he offered me.
    He pulled up a chair across from mine so that our knees were only about a foot apart. “How are things going for you, Morgan? Are you getting settled in okay?”
    His niceness sort of creeped me out. Did he realize that his employers had jammed a tracking chip in my arm? Was he okay with that? I decided to play along. “I’m doing okay.”
    “Good, good. I’m glad to hear that.” He paused, staring at me a moment. “Well, now that you’re here at Camp Willowmoss, it’s my responsibility to go over the rules with you and to discuss your personal goals.”
    “When do you think I’ll be able to see my mom?” I blurted out. I didn’t care about rules or my “personal goals”. I just wanted to get out of here and be with my family again. Preferably my family in the world I had come from. But seeing the mom in this world would be a good start.
    “Well, seeing your family is a privilege. One that you can earn.”
    “What?” Sharp disappointment stabbed me.
    “Now, let’s talk about your personal goals. What would you like to accomplish while you’re here, Morgan?” He smiled in a fake sort of way.
    I’d like to wipe that grin off your face for starters, I thought. And then get as far away from this place as I can. Instead, I plastered a fake smile of my own onto my mouth. At least as best as I could with a fat lip. “I’d like to develop healthier eating habits and get into a better workout routine so that I can reach my goal weight and then maintain it. You know, a healthier me is a healthier world.”
    His creepy fake smile got bigger. “Very good, Morgan.”
    He grabbed a notepad and pen off of his desk and wrote something down. Presumably my lofty goals, although I couldn’t tell for sure as he had crossed his legs and set the notepad on his knee, which tilted the notepad out of my view.
    “What do you think you should do today to help you reach those goals?” He poised the pen over the notepad, awaiting my response.
    “I had a healthy breakfast already, so I guess I need to spend some time working out.” I smiled a less phony smile, pleased with myself for coming up with answers I was sure he wanted to hear.
    “That’s right.” He wrote something down. “How much time do you plan to spend on exercising each day?”
    “I don’t know. I guess about an hour?”
    He nodded. “Close. We require two hours per day.”
    Two hours? Was he serious? I could see by his face that he was. “How much weight am I supposed to lose, anyway?”
    “How much weight do you think you should lose, Morgan?”
    I didn’t like the way he kept saying my name—like he actually knew me. Pushing aside the irritation, I thought about how much weight Dr. Bradley had said I needed to lose. Her number seemed high to me so I made up my own. “I guess about ten pounds?”
    His eyebrows went up, but he didn’t say anything, so I figured he knew what Dr. Bradley had said.
    “Twenty pounds?” I