Isadora watched him think. There was really no other descriptive phrase to explain it. He thought in silence. She watched his face. It changed very little, giving her no insight at all to what direction his thoughts were drifting in, nor what the subject matter was. She could guess, given their conversation tonight and prior conversations. It was likely he was wondering what had been done to him.
Dora wondered if any of those taken captive (recaptive? Was this a rekidnapping? Could you be kidnapped twice by the same people?) would ever rest easy, wondering what had been done while they'd been gone, for the days -- days! -- they couldn't remember. That had been stolen from them.
She would wonder, always, if something had been done. Something implanted, something taken away. Maybe they'd all be infected with some virus carried by the eight rekidnapped victims. If their captives were clever, it would be something slow launching so most people wouldn't associate it with the absence of 8 residents.
An uneasy shift of her weight possibly betrayed the course of her thoughts, but here, with him, she wouldn't hide subtle things like that. From others, yes, but she thought that as co-conspirators, they'd achieved a certain level of trust and respect and that meant he could see what she'd try to hide from others.
"I managed not to throw a tantrum. Iridia was impressed. I thought a lot about the reasons they might have taken the ones that they did. I went through the motions of life and ..." She trailed off and shrugged. Tried not to think he was dead? "Decided no one here was an adequate replacement. I had offing myself scheduled for next week in the off chance -- though apparently not so off -- they were simply fucking with us for the week."
Iridia lifted his head slightly at Dora's language; clearly, she was picking up things from the other residents, and it amused him somewhat.