The first thing that strikes him is how normaleverything appears to be. The room is somber in tone—the walls are paneled with dark wood, and the same brown, threadbare carpet used in the school library covers the floor. There is a pair of bookcases filled more with photos and trinkets than actual books. There are file cabinets, the drawers labeled with nothing more than a year written in a large, block hand. There’s a large desk, behind which sits a comfortable looking chair and, behind that, a window with open blinds that looks out onto the school’s small courtyard. In front of the desk are two well-worn chairs with tall backs and no arms. They don’t look comfortable at all, but Mr. Form indicates Jordan and his father should take them so they do.