In the thirty days he'd spent in Landel's Institute, the Doctor had always heard visitors announced on Sundays. But in the thirty days he'd spent in Landel's Institute, he'd never once been pulled aside and taken to meet with one.

Until now.

The nurse had found him right after brunch, informing him cheerily that someone had come by to see him—though she wouldn't say whom it was ("It's a surprise!"). She led him out of the Sun Room, turning to the right and taking him into one of the two rooms that flanked the reception.

"Take a seat, Mr. Smith," she said, still beaming at him. "Your visitor will be along shortly!"

The Doctor gave her a little wave before she turned to go, but he didn't take a seat—not yet. Instead, he started wandering along the edge of the room, trying to work out who might have come to see him—who might have known to come and see him. There was something distinctly not right about the situation; it all felt off somehow. He'd heard of visitors, sure—he'd read the letter that Donna had received—but that was still... Well...

He came to a stop, folding his arms as he glanced towards the door to see if anyone new had come in yet. There were a few people in the room aside from the staff, but none that he recognized. But maybe that was that the point?