Vincent was about to start making guesses as to who swapped shirts with his sister before hearing the question. It distracted him from the situation, which Margaret was thankful for. The last thing Margaret wanted was for her brother to be stressed out over something so trivial as a piece of clothing. Vincent turned to the girls and shrugged, his arms still crossed. Margaret looked at her brother with a fondness that can only be expressed by a sibling. She had known him all her life and it was relieving for her to see him letting his guard down for once. Margaret only wanted for Vincent to be successful and happy. Even if the venue wasn't exactly what she'd pictured, the concrete atmosphere felt like something Vincent could work with, if not thrive in. The cell felt like home, strangely enough, and Margaret realized that her big brother may have felt the same way, enabling him to be as much of himself as possible. Margaret figured this was a good thing for both of them. She gave a disheartened chuckle at the thought of what her mother would think about this situation. Her mother tried so hard to get them out of one prison, only to have fate drag them into another.
Vincent shook his head before attempting to answer the question posed to him."I don't know, really," he attempted.
Before he could speak again, a loud noise called for everyone's attention. A guard had hit the bars of the cell with a baton a couple of times before ordering lights out. The room hushed aside from the sounds of shuffling sheets as kids got into their beds. Vincent tucked his little sister into her sheets. He received a peck on the cheek as a thank you. The two exchanged wearily reassuring looks before Vincent got into his own bed. Sleep came more easily to Vincent than it did to Margaret, though it wasn't a walk in the park for either of them. It had been so long since the two had last slept in beds of their own and they were grateful. Their bodies were so worn but their minds had trouble calming down. Eventually, both siblings drifted off to a surprisingly peaceful sleep.
Morning came seemingly too quickly. The siblings woke up at approximately the same time, woken by the groans of other people. A dull pain in the back of their necks caused their hands to go investigating. There, they found a square of gauze, taped down about halfway down their necks. A quick look around the room revealed that everyone else was just as confused about the makeshift band-aid.
Vincent immediately ripped his off, revealing a small incision. He attempted to feel for whatever was under his skin, but only made the swelling worse, effectively concealing it. He grumbled under his breath in frustration. At this point in the accelerated healing process, new skin had already formed, but the area was still a little more than sore. Vincent would have to cause any bleeding on his own, rather than just pick at a scab, if he wanted to remove whatever it was that was put in. He knew that blood on his shirt and neck would look suspicious.
Margaret was more focused on the new accessory around her neck. It was made from some sort of stiff plastic, not metal, and rested at the base of her neck. She twisted it around a bit.
"What in the world?" Margaret whispered to herself. "What is this?" She then asked aloud to no one in particular.
