She led me out of the dining hall, where 70 or so people sat, silently cooling down tea and rotating around the fireside. Keeping my eyes lowered in obedience of the week’s regimen, I felt a wave of panic as we moved privately into the common room, and then a sense of ease while catching the evening sun on the couch beside Hunter, a college student slouched in exhaustion from an austere six days of sobriety.