He tried not to fall asleep, tried to stay awake and savor that feeling of her pressed against him, of her breath on the nape of his neck, of the enfolded engulfment of her wings, but he couldn't keep his eyes open. Soon enough, he was asleep. What roused him, he couldn't say, but he found himself groggily awake in the close heat of those wings, held tight. He listened attentively, heard something else, a tinny sound. The robot. His bladder was full. He gently extricated himself from Mimi, from her wings, and stood. There was the robot, silhouetted on the end table. He smiled and padded off to the toilet. He came back to find Mimi splayed across the whole bed, occupying its length and breadth, a faintly naughty smile on her face. He began to ease himself into bed again, when he heard the sound, tinny, a little rattle. He looked at the robot. It was moving. Its arms were moving. That was impossible. Its arms were painted on. He sat up quickly, rousing Mimi, who let out a small sound, and something small and bent emerged from behind the robot and made a dash for the edge of the end table. The way the thing ran, it reminded him of an animal that had been crippled by a trap. He shrank back from it instinctively, even as he reached out for the table light and switched it on. Mimi scrunched her eyelids and flung an arm over her face, but he hardly noticed, even when she gave an outraged groan. He was looking at the little, crippled thing, struggling to get down off the end table on Mimi's side of the bed. It was the Allen. Though he hadn't seen it in nearly 20 years, he recognized it. Tiny, malformed, and bandy-legged, it was still the spitting image of him. Had Davey been holding on to it all these years? Tending it in a cage? Torturing it with pins? Mimi groaned again. "Switch off the light, baby," she said, a moment's domesticity. "In a sec," he said, and edged closer to the Allen, which was huddled in on itself, staring and crazy. "Shhh," Adam breathed. "It's okay." He very slowly moved one hand toward the end table, leaning over Mimi, kneeing her wing out of the way. The Allen shied back farther. "What're you doing?" Mimi said, squinting up at him. "Be very still," he said to her. "I don't want to frighten it. Don't scream or make any sudden movements. I'm counting on you." Her eyes grew round and she slowly looked over toward the end table. She sucked in sudden air, but didn't scream. "What is --" "It's me," he said. "It grew out of a piece of me. My thumb. After Davey bit it off." "Jesus," she said. The Allen was quaking now, and Alan cooed to it. "It's hurt," Mimi said. "A long time ago," Andreas said. "No, now. It's bleeding." She was right. A small bead of blood had formed beneath it. He extended his hand farther. Its bandy scurry was pathetic.