[Charlie's sitting in a chair; she's been sitting there for a long time, now, idly stroking the ginger kitten in her lap. No queen outfit, this time, no crown. She looks almost broken. The kitten isn't that pleased either, by it's harsh meowing - she's rubbing it too hard. With another meow, it digs its claws into her leg and takes off - and the wincing Red head finally comes up.]
Cyd's gone.
[She feels like she should say something else. Something to mark how much this means.]
She was my roommate. [Another pause.] And my identical twin. From another universe. Which was weird.
...We had a cat. [She'd settled down, here. She'd had a
pet. With her sister, pretty much but still. She'd settled down with someone. And they're gone. And suddenly she' angry.]
The porter needs to go down.