They drove in silence, and in the quiet space between them, the bond they always had forged even tighter—a chemical alliance, borne of biology and shared experience. Jenny’s whole life, she thought that they had chosen each other, that it was a terrific kind of coincidence that they were both born into the insanity of this family. But they hadn’t chosen each other; they didn’t even have to choose each other. They had been chosen for each other, and now they lived in the kind of exquisite stuckness you can’t even opt out of.
