The sofa had been moved. Not nudged a few inches to better align with the coffee table, no, it was moved, dragged across the room and repositioned against the opposite wall, where it now faced the karaoke machine that had been set up in the corner with its speakers angled for optimal acoustics.
The coffee table had been relocated to serve as a makeshift altar for a collection of throw pillows that had definitely come from their own apartment, along with a stack of board games whose boxes were worn at the edges from years of use.
The area rug that had come with the facility had been rolled up and leaned against the wall; in its place, a softer, plusher rug from home now covered the floor.
The lighting fixtures had been disassembled. The harsh, fluorescent panels that had come standard with the government-issued apartment were now stacked neatly in a corner.
