Fate or coincidence brings them to that park bench together.

'I come here all the time, you know,' he says. 'Since then…'

She doesn't know at all, since she herself barely comes.

He looks at her more closely. She looks at him. Dark circles under her eyes and the black lines on her fingernails. His skeleton legs and the blanket that fails to cover them and bandaged hands.

'The nails came off,' he explains. 'Haven't had a game since.' He looks down at his legs. 'Haven't walked since either.'

Is that the price he paid for freedom from these games?