[When the video feed first comes up, it's silent, and also not quite centred. Grell speaks for a moment, before realizing her microphone is muted, and depresses the button to correct the problem. There's an exaggerated look of disgust on her face; it's been nearly twenty-four hours since she woke up, alone, in her room, and it's taken her this long to figure out how to get a mass message out. She probably could have asked for help, but hey. She's stubborn.

Settling back into her seat, she waves briefly, without much energy, to the camera. The only thing that has gone "right," today, is finding her own clothes, in the trunk by the foot of her bed. She pulls her braided hair forward over her shoulder, before she speaks.]

I know some of you must think this letter is having a big laugh at your expense, right?

[Grell holds up her own, and then smacks it lightly back down on the counter.]

That's fine. Think whatever you like, and we'll see who's really laughing, won't we? In the meantime, I'm looking for someone. His name is Ronald Knox. Overly cheerful, with really unfortunate hair? He's got a ridiculous toy he's rather fond of. It looks like this.

[She flips the sheet of paper over, and holds up a terrible drawing of a lawn mower.]

We worked together. I have every reason to believe the both of us took a page from Ophelia's book, and drowned, during our last assignment. He was my responsibility. If any of you have seen him, do let me know. I'll be in the first floor dormitories.