Simultaneously and wordlessly we had asked this question of ourselves and each other over the tea and sugar, my brother and I. It had appeared like a cartoon bubble over each of our heads for the other to read, discernible only to our eyes. It was in essence the question I was already embarked upon answering in my first-person experiment at night in the cell I shared with my ruined girls, by the light of a yahrzeit candle, working on my laptop even during blackouts, tethered at those times to the cell phone system at megawatt cost, thanks to Charlotte’s beneficence.