They addressed each other in foreign sounding sentences rich of vowels in which every now and then there was a trace of those words they had once learned from their parents. Most of the time however they did not speak at all: The sphere in which they lived was limited and thus they did not need to explain. They knew each other so well, each of them could tell without words what the other one was thinking. And they seemed to often feel like they were one and the same person. Thus they grew up without knowing other people. The servant brought them candied fruits, sometimes also fresh fruits and sweet pastry. The two did not know where it came from or how he paid for it, and they did not ask either. For them it was so self-evident that they would have something to eat, that even the possibility of a question as to where those treats came from, would have struck them absurd. They sat on the bed and fed each other with sticky fruits, drank red wine, which they poured into crystal glasses. Gene woke with a start to feel Lauren’s body against his, Finch cradled on her other side. They were in a narrow bed, crammed together. It took a moment to remember the state of things and Gene’s stomach soured all over.Tamara was in a coma, of sorts, restless in her unconsciousness. Mumbling incoherently a few seconds before growing still and silent again. Lee Lee and the medical staff were uncertain what was happening. Something in the sounds played had triggered the reaction in Tamara, but as of yet, no one knew how things might turn out. For all Gene knew, she was locked away, forever. He wished he’d protested more, done something to keep this all from happening, but it was too late for that, and Gene stewed, miserable and heartbroken, clutching his daughter as tight as he could against him.They’d been convinced to get some rest by Holly, the short blonde’s compassion deep and a small silver lining in a very cloudy day. Gene had led Lauren and Finch into a private bunkroom and.
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