It is mid-afternoon in an airy, lower-Manhattan flat, on the ninth floor of a posh-looking building with a doorman. It is a bit dark and there are no lights on. There is a strange quiet feel to the flat, perhaps due to the lack of any appliances - no fridge humming, no TV interference, even no air conditioning, though it is hot and humid outside. Walk into the bathroom, and you will notice that there is no toilet paper, no bottles of shampoo or toiletries. In the kitchen, berries and cheese are laid out on the counter and there are...