"That's not true, Bill. I'm changed, you're changed, we've all been changed by this."
"Especially Glaeken."
Yes, she thought with a pang of anguish. Especially poor Glaeken. What would he do, where would he go when Magda was gone?
And Sylvia and Jeffy—what about them?
So many questions, so many uncertainties.
She locked her arms around Bill's waist and snuggled against him.
At least there were a few things of which she could be sure—her love for Bill, for one, and the certainty that no one alive today would ever again take sunrise for granted.
And beneath their feet, in the apartment directly below, a young red-haired man with an ageless thirty-five-year-old body was spoon-feeding applesauce to the twisted, feeble-minded woman he loved so dearly and with whom he had hoped to grow old.