Kazuo sprang up, banging on the glass. "Oh thank god you're ok."
"Kazuo? Where are we?" Amélie glanced around. "Why are we in some kind of cell? And why are we in white clothing?" She tugged at the unfamiliar fabric.
"It's...it's a long story," Kazuo ran a hand through his hair, pacing the small space.
"Long story? What are you talking about?"
"It's complicated," he sighed, leaning against the glass.
She sat on her bed, the thin mattress barely cushioning her. "Yeah, I'mma need more explanation than that."
"Remember that Roman guy?" Kazuo asked, his fingers tapping on the glass.
"What about him?"
"Really, you don't remember? You were there."
"Can you recall it for me? My head is a little bit fuzzy," she massaged her temples, wincing.
"He kidnapped us, Amélie."