She let him take her hand, even met his reach with hers, though it would not have been her own choice to do as much. Simply, their will was drawn together, and what Peter reached for, Evey offered. That was how it was supposed to be, how it always was. (It hadn't been like that in over a year.)
"I don't know," Evey answered. She stared blankly at the table between them. "She's gone, isn't she," she asked, already knowing the answer. "And yet, she's - I'm - she's still here. I'm still here. I -- I don't --"
She didn't have any idea why she was and was not herself, why nothing felt as if it were quite right. It was a strange thing, being a foreigner in one's own body. She looked not for the first time at the bones under her skin. She could clearly see them. Why did it seem so odd now, so wrong?
"We have been combined, haven't we?" she asked. Again, she already knew.