Their mother had disappeared to the upstairs. She had slipped out of the room and not returned. Chris went to check upon her and found the sleeping form of his mother totally unresponsive to anything he said.
She was so deep in sleep that even a slight nudge of her arm did not wake her. He returned to the others to tell them. Each had some concern, but each realised that a perfectly rational explanation could be the cause. Exhaustion.
At last, Michael turned towards Nick and asked, “Nick, why are you here and where do you come from?”
Nick sat and considered his response. The boy had asked him questions he found it almost impossible to answer. Since blinking awake several weeks earlier, he had no conception of any history, of any of his history. He was a page that had no writing upon it, or, if it had…
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