He glances up at the sky and Marina wonders if James is praying. He doesn't seem to her like the praying sort, and with a sense of apprehension, she wonders if that thought is part of the supposed memory stash she's gone and lost. "I suppose you have a point there," she says, watching him. 'Complicated' seems like the word to use for whatever relationship she's meant to have with this man here too. Not lovers or anything of that nature; just complicated in the sense that they didn't know what to make of each other, she thinks. It's a dizzying dance.

"I get the sense that me disappearing isn't unusual," she admits, her turn to glance up at the sky as though in search of answers.