[ Her eyes dart over to the lobby doors, and she listens at the rain for a moment, silence sweeping between her and who she believes to be the concierge clerk. Reaching up, Skye rubs her hand over her forehead. This isn't going to get her anywhere, and she doesn't have it in her to just wait around, so she fixes her gaze back on him. ]

Skye. I'm in 114. I need to know how long the weather's been like this, and how long that room's been occupied. You have to have some kind of record of that, right? I just want to talk to whoever was on duty when I got here.