"She did so and Nancy sat down under the helmet.-----------------------------------------------To Be Continued!---------------------------------------...-------Author's note: This chapter spans much more time than a single year. I tried to givehints in each section about when that particular escape took place, ifyou are interested in such things. I have so many story ideas about the Complex that I don't want the wholenovel to be just about the group of men we met in chapter 1. I will getback to. Just as I had visions of having to spend the rest of my life glued to a section of wall, I relaxed my hand, trying to flatten the fingers so maybe they would come away from the wall. I was rather surprised when they kept bending from flat, and bent back on themselves, in the process, peeling themselves loose.I realised it was a bit like Velcro, very strongly bonded unless you peeled the two halves apart. It seemed my digits were now all double jointed, so I could disconnect my self from a. . no.” Monica smacked her palm to her forehead. “I’ll have to crash tonight on the sofa so you can have your bed, Janet.”“Oh, no,” Janet said sweetly. “You’re a guest, here. If anyone sleeps on the sofa, it’ll be your mom or me. Right, Eva?”Eva glanced at Janet. “Oh. Right.”Janet changed into a pink satin camisole and matching shorts. She sat, her legs folded under, in her comfy chair reading a paperback. Eva and Monica were in the kitchen finishing the dishes and chatting.Monica headed into. But the expression on Monica's face was not guilt, it was the face of uncertainty, and her eyes had the cold flame of conviction in them."Mom," she began, "We have something to tell you." It was 'we', not 'I', not 'Dad', but 'we.' For some reason, memories of my Dad taking me almost two decades ago flashed before my eyes, even though I had not thought of those incidents in months. Unaware of the swirling in my mind, Monica continued. "You see, Dad and I are - we are - oh shit, here goes - Dad.